Slashera:Part 1 The Early Years
by Trikkster
Summary: AU Slade wants a perfect apprentice. So what happens when he comes across a girl that seems just perfect for him to train? Will he be able to form her into the apprentice he's always wanted? Will she stay with him long enough to become this perfect apprentice? And will she change Slade in ways he never thought possible? This is Part 1 in the tale of Slashera. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. Therefore I definitely don't own Slade. I also do not own Batman, or Bruce Wayne. However, both Slade and Bruce's mannerisms in this tale along with their pasts are of my own design and creation. As is the plot. But I don't own Goodnight Moon.

Rating: M (Just to be safe. However, before any people read this, this story does not contain sexual abuse or pedophiles. Or anything of that nature. This rating is simply in place for violence and later . . . perhaps unsettling scenes. But not sexual scenes, I assure you. )  
A/N: Before you read this tale, please note that this takes place in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE from the Teen Titans show. In fact, in this universe, Batman doesn't exist, the Justice League doesn't exist, and the Teen Titans team doesn't exist. This is just a fair warning. Because in this universe, Slade may seem OOC, as may Bruce, alright? Please take note that I am not a Slade expert. I don't claim to be. Okay? I haven't read all the comic books.

Please also note, I have nothing really against Batman or the Titans. They are in fact my favorite super heroes. It's just that Batman is portrayed differently in this story.

Now that all of that has been said, let us begin the tale of Slashera, my oldest OC (I'm pretty sure), and perhaps my most complex. She was originally formed in my mind as a "what if" concerning what kind of apprentice Slade could have if said apprentice stayed with him longer than Robin or Terra. Yes, I came up with her while I watched the show, Originally, I wrote her as a relatively flat character, but over time, she has changed and has grown into something so much more. This is the story of her development, and therefore, may be LONG. It will receive the utmost of my knowledge, and will I hope be accurate in regards to nature v. nurture. I want you to know that I am very proud of this story. So please, Enjoy.

_Her mother rubbed her long, beautiful fingers through the daughter's black locks over her forehead, as the girl laid back on the woman lying in bed with her. The two year old gazed with black eyes at the book propped up before her. Eleanor was tucking her in, with one of her favorite stories. __Goodnight Moon__. "Goodnight stars. . ." Eleanor's wispy voice crooned. "Goodnight air," the daughter whispered, wearing pink pajamas, them sitting in the tiny twin bed in the bare room. "Goodnight. . ." Eleanor continued. . . "NOISES EVERYWHERE!" the girl squealed, eyes shut tight, punching the air with both hands. Feet in the air. Eleanor smiled, "Mary, I'm so proud of you." And leaning down, planted a firm kiss in her daughter's nice, clean locks. Mary leaned her head back, grinning at Eleanor. "I love you, mommy!" she said happily, gazing up at her blonde haired mother. Eleanor smiled softly back down with blue eyes, "I love you too, little one." Suddenly, Eleanor's eyes flitted up to the doorway to the room. _

_She turned, and stared, gulping, and tightened her grip around Mary, around her waist. Mary frowned, and turned, then smiled impishly at the black haired man standing there, his hair slicked back. That frown that was always on his face firmly in place. . . "Hey BRUCE!" she squealed. Happiness flooding her at her new daddy. "Hey Mary," the man clearly forced through his teeth, his cold brown eyes on her. "Honey," Eleanor whispered slowly. "Mommy? Mommy what's wrong?" Mary whispered quickly, sensing the other woman's anxiety. "Daddy's got something for you," Eleanor said in monotone. Mary smiled, and turned back to Bruce from looking up at her mother. The man now kneeled down, still frowning at her, and held out a pink stuffed rabbit, wiggling it. Mary squealed, and lunged, held back by her mother's arms around her middle. "SILLY MOMMY! LET ME GET THE BUNNY!" she squealed. "Mary, sweetie, I love you. Remember that. I love you. . ." Eleanor whispered. Mary didn't stop smiling, "MOMMY! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? OF COURSE YOU MMPH!" her mother latched the moist cloth over her nose and mouth, pushing her back, holding her daughter firmly against her chest. Mary struggled, screaming in confusion behind the strange smelling cloth. Flailing her arms, trying to get away, as terror gripped her heart. Tears streamed down pale cheeks. What was mommy doing? Couldn't she tell Mary couldn't breathe? She saw a blurred Bruce stand up, as dots flashed over her vision, and walk out. Then, she heard her mother's voice, cracking as if Eleanor was crying, not her. "It'll be okay, my little one. This has to happen. It'll all be over soon. Just go to sleep. Shut your pretty eyes. . ." Suddenly, Mary felt a splitting head ache, and with one last unearthly shriek as the scary darkness rushed up to envelope her, she mumbled into the cloth one thing, "Mommy?" and fell back, limp. She vaguely felt Eleanor holding her close, before she lost all consciousness. _

The first thing she felt was cold air hitting her. Mary's eyes flickered open, and she blinked as the sound of children's voices reached her ears. She frowned, blinking, and sat up, looking around. She was in some sort of metal play pen. . . she gazed down at the cold, hard silver floor, then the silver bars surrounding her. And finally, the silver top. She blinked, and reaching up, knocked on it. A clang flitted through the area. She shivered suddenly, rubbing her bare arms. Not feeling her pajamas, she looked down, blinking. Only wearing her light pink underwear. "Mommy? Is . . . Is it time for a bath?" she whispered, and crawled over to the bars of the cage, took them in her grasp, and peered out, "M-Mommy? Mommy, where are you? Wh-what is this place?" she whispered. Nothing answered her. Just that sound of children playing. She felt terror grip her. It was dark. . . too dark. . . and too quiet. She was scared. She turned, glancing nervously around the cage. Then her eyes landed on the only other object in the cage. She blinked, and crawled towards the small DVD player. And sat cross-legged. It was a show she watched all the time at home. . . maybe Mommy would come soon? Set her free? She gazed as the giant purple dinosaur, which was her only familiar face in this strange new place, sang and danced with the kids. She grinned. And edged closer.

The cold blue eye gazed at the screen before him, projecting the child in her cage. "Good. She's awake. . ." he turned to a dial on the small control panel of knobs before him, "Now, little one, let's see if we can't stimulate that mind of yours. . ." he slowly turned the dial down to zero, and the humidity level of the girl's room dropped down.

Thirty minutes into the DVD, something occurred to her. The dryness she felt. She felt her throat become scratchier and scratchier, and her skin itched. She felt her cracked lips, and attempted to use her tongue to get them wet and better. To no avail. Her tongue was far too dry. . . she looked around, as terror gripped her, yet again. Why hadn't mommy come to get her from this scary place?. . . _"M-Mommy?" _she whispered, blinking, "_M-Mommy, I want some milk. Or water. . . Mommy? Daddy?" _she crawled over to the bars again, and shook them, tears flowing slowly, "_Wh-why am I in here? What is this place? H-have I been bad? I'm . . . I'm sorry. . . Please, bring me something to drink? Or some ice cream? An Icicle?" _she looked around. Nothing. All she heard was the DVD. . . she felt her heart break. . . Did they not want her anymore? Was she here, truly, all alone? "_MOMMY! DADDY! SOMEBODY! PLEASE! WHERE ARE MY PAJAMAS? WHERE ARE YOU? I NEED YOU! PLEASE!" _she began to crawl around the cage, calling out constantly. Hoping someone would hear. She went to grab another bar, and she felt something different. . . She blinked, frowning, at the block on the other side. And curiosity set in. . . she leaned out, and blinked at the box. . . it looked like the "lock" on the door to their house. She'd seen Mommy, and Daddy, put something small and long in it, and open the door. . . she blinked, and began to fumble with it, hoping to leave this place. It didn't work. She whimpered, and scooted back in, curling up, sucking her thumb, eyes shut tight, tears streaming. Why would Mommy put her here, in this scary place? What had she done wrong? How would she get out? She had tried to use the lock . . . suddenly, something occurred to her. She needed something small. She opened her eyes, staring, breathing hard. The key . . . something slender. . . her throat's dryness intensified. She gave a hacking cough, the coldness and dryness becoming too much for her. Unable to find the key in the area with her eyes. She groaned, and tried again, gazing out into the darkness beyond her bars, "Mommy, please let me out. I need water, I need. . ." "I LOVE YOU! YOU LOVE ME! WE'RE A HAPPY FAMILY! WITH A GREAT BIG HUG AND A . . ." she moved her eyes to the DVD player. They had something that made those funny pictures at home too. . . it'd gotten sick once. . . and when a man came to fix it. . . little tiny sticks came out. . . from the inside. Her eyes lit up. Keys.

Mary blinked, taking the small player, and struggling, lifted it. She bit her lip, drawing blood as she did so, and. . . it slipped, and clattered to the floor. She gasped, yelping, jumping and hitting her head on the roof of the cage, hands flying back. And it shattered. She stared as the keys spread everywhere. She blinked. And slowly, picked up one piece, and moved to the lock slowly, despite her headache. Sliding it in, she began to move it, trying to mimic her Mommy and Bruce, and then. . . it clicked ,and she swung forward with the bars. Letting go, she caught herself on her arms before hitting the cold steel floor. She stared around at the darkness about her. She was out. . . At that moment, the lights flickered on in the room. And she stared about. Standing up, having had to crawl in the small box, she took it in. The room was silver like her cage all around, and at one end, a door. She blinked, and after looking around the room for Mommy, decided to go through the door. Walking over quickly, Mary gripped the handle, turned, and pushed.

She stared, and her thumb went to her mouth instantly. This wasn't their home. . . the long white hallway was not their dark blue. . . she began to walk slowly down the long hallway, her soles of her feet padding on soft white carpet, past doors. Upon checking each, Mary found none open. Then . . . she opened the final door. And stared at the toilet in the room within. And her heart leapt, as her brain quickly made the identification necessary. . . water. . . she stumbled forward, and knelt down, dipping her head in, her hair mixing with the liquid, and began to drink, slurping, eyes shut tight, as the liquid, so refreshingly cool, slid down her throat.

The cold crystal blue eye watched the girl as she drank, as the man stood in the doorway, in his gray muscle shirt and dark charcoal pants with various large buttoned, pockets. The child had made it. He crossed his arms, frowning down at her. The kid's resourcefulness truly was impressive, but it'd take much more than that for her to make it here. She'd need to be led along, like a pup learning a complex trick. At that moment, the little thing leaned back on her heels, lapping at her lips. Like a dog. He frowned disapprovingly. While his training methods might follow that of a filthy creature, he'd have to teach her some form of greater dignity. If she was to associate with him. The girl turned suddenly, and gazed up at him, surprise in her black eyes, staring at him. "Wh-who are you?" she whispered. He blinked, at the childlike innocence merged with the surprise. The willingness to believe so easily. To be manipulated. That _would _come in handy.

"I'm your father." She stared at him, as the mental barrier that had been forged in the two year old shot up, "What? I already have a daddy. . ." He blinked. "_That man was your 'daddy'_. _I'm your 'father' now." _He remarked coldly. She sucked her thumb, nervousness setting in and sat cross-legged, "Sorry. I . . . I didn't know. . ." He smiled suddenly, and kneeling down, touched the child's cheek with his large, muscular hand, moving her hand away from her mouth. He'd have none of that, "You were smart. Getting out of that cage. That's good. That makes me very happy." "Where mommy?" she spoke up, blinking. He gazed into that face, into those black eyes, as his mind rushed to his answer, "She's gone. I'm taking care of you now." She moved back to sucking harder on her thumb. He pulled it away. "I want my mommy," she whispered, clearly on the verge of tears. He ignored her. Standing up, he stepped forward, and she glanced nervously at his black boots, now inches from her body. He knelt down, and held out two long, incredibly muscular arms, smiling softly at her, "Come here. Let's get you some food. And some clothes." She blinked up at him, and held up her two hands, accepting his help. He smiled softly, and picked up the child.

He'd reward her for a little while. Then the true training would start. Soon, she'd forget all about that bitch of a mother and that idiotic millionaire who had attempted to raise her. Soon she'd only know him, only obey him. Soon, she'd be the perfect apprentice. _His _apprentice. He quickly held her bridal style in his highly muscular arms. She blinked up at him, and touched his eye patch with her pale hands, sucking still on her thumb. "Where the other one go?" she asked, as he turned, and walked away, carrying her to another part of the place where he lived, and now where she lived. "Funny thing. It's always been this way," he joked. She blinked, "Mommy says differences make people special." He chuckled, "I suppose so. You are too. Special, I mean. Little Slashera. That's your name now. Alright? And my name is Slade." She blinked, and thought for a moment, as he held her tight to his chest.

She glanced around at the large, unknown world of white they now walked about in. Heard the firm thuds of his footfalls as he carried her. Bruce never carried her. When he hugged her, he held her away from him. This man couldn't have held her any closer if he tried. She heard his steady heart beat. And gazed up at "Slade"'s slightly wrinkled face, the only other person she'd seen here. And now, he was taking care of her. That decided it, "Alright, you can call me Slashera, as long as I can call you Slade then." He smirked, "Sounds great to me." he hugged her frail body close, able to even now feel the baby fat clinging to her. He mentally grimaced at a waste two whole years had been on the girl. . . putting him behind in training her. . . postponing his masterpiece. . . she smiled softly, oblivious to his egocentric thoughts, his embrace warming her up, and touched his white hair and goatee, "It's so soft. . ." "Glad you like it," he said offhandedly. She smiled, and wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in his light cologne. He positioned his large hands, her legs now hanging loosely off to the sides of his body, one hand under her clothed rump, to keep her from falling, the other, rubbing slowly up and down her spine, supporting her there. She hugged him closer, around his thick muscular neck, "Are we gonna have fun?" He smirked, "Yeah, tons of fun. Little Slashera." "Okay then, 'Father Slade'," she giggled. Slade wasn't so bad. It'd be fun to stay with him. Until Mommy came back, of course.

Slade smirked. He knew very well the child hadn't dismissed the thought of returning home. To her, this was just a play date. She couldn't have been farther from the truth. She'd never see that woman again for years, if at all. He smirked. He moved to cradle the child's head with his former spine hand. She snuggled up against him, giving him a light kiss. He chuckled. _Congratulations, Slashera. You've passed the first test. Now your true training can begin._

A/N: So . . . what did you think? Please, please tell me in a review! But no flames, please. Only constructive criticism, alright? And as I said, I have nothing against Bruce Wayne or Batman. This is simply an alternate universe and so he has an alternate personality. ;) . . . and what did you think of Slade? Narcissistic and Manipulative enough to please you Slade-fans out there? If not, just you wait. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, and therefore, I do not own Slade. I do not own Batman, and therefore, I do not own Bruce Wayne.

A/N: So, for those of you who decided to read the second chapter, thanks! I really appreciate it! I know the first one was a little shorter than some of you might have liked, and this one may be short too. But I've got others to post today, so I hope that makes up for it! ENJOY!

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Slashera groaned, getting shaken softly awake, lying on her back on the large, soft, white bed. "Get up now. It's time to wake up," Slade's voice muttered. She opened her eyes, and rolled her head over on the sheets, gazing up at the man lying in bed beside her, him in his clothes from the day before, her in a brown smock dress he'd given her the day before. His crystal blue eye bore into her sleepy onyx orbs for a moment. She smiled weakly at him, "Mornin', Slade. . ." she whispered. He gave her a small smile, his eyes calm, cool, and calculated. And stroked her cheek, "Good morning, little Slashera," he replied in his warm, deep voice. Her heart warmed. She loved his warm, strong touch. And once more, continued to compare him to Bruce, who had gone out of his way to not touch her. . . "Come on now," he muttered suddenly, and his hand immediately retreated. Getting up, her getting jostled on the bed a bit, he walked firmly to the door, even his socked feet making firm thuds on the carpet, then turned. He raised his eyebrow at her, "Well come on." She gazed at him, having not moved a muscle, now leaning up on her arms, "Where are we going?"

They'd eaten last night, after he'd put her in the dress. Or she'd eaten. She'd been unsure of the soup he'd provided, with cut up steak, carrots, broth, and other vegetables in it, including mushrooms. She'd never eaten anything like it before, and was iffy at first. He'd given her a glass of milk to help her get it down, but that didn't cause her to adapt to the strange taste. So he'd told her halfway through that if she ate five spoonfuls, he'd eat one. And in that way dinner continued until she'd finished the bowl of soup. Then, he'd given her a banana for dessert. Once she'd finished, he'd taken her to the bedroom immediately, and the tired girl had immediately fallen asleep on the white sheets. Sucking on a thumb. That was something he had to get rid of, he'd decided, as he'd rubbed her arm slightly as she lay curled up beside him, the moonlight shining in on her pale face. It was then that he had gotten an idea about how to stop the bad habit. But for now. . . He now recalled her question, _"Where are we going?"_ "To play," he finally replied. She immediately lit up at that, and with renewed energy, leapt out of bed. Before following him excitedly down the hallway.

Slade leaned down, frowning down at her, his two arms reaching down, as she grasped his strong hands, and her little legs moved, her frowning down at her feet. They were at a large plywood platform in the middle of the large gym. He now was kneeling, frowning hard down at the girl, on top of the boxlike structure. She grunted, as she stepped up, then stepped back down from the platform. Then back up, then back down, as she had done for the past thirty minutes. . ."Stop," he advised. She blinked, and did as asked, frowning up at him, her hands at her sides. He'd let go of them. He knelt down on the large box, one knee hitting it, the other propped up. And reaching out with his right hand, Slade pointed at her left knee, keeping eye contact with her, "Use this one to step up. You've been using your other one. You have to learn to alternate." She blinked up at him, confusion on her face, " 'Alchernate'? What's that mean?" He blinked, and then picked her up by her middle, and hoisted the girl up and onto the box, but off to the side from where he sat.

He soon sat down beside her, her legs flopped over the edge of the box, his feet firmly on the floor. He pondered what to do. . . After all, it'd been ages since he'd trained from the ground up. . . he stood, got off of the platform, the boards creaking a bit, and turned, frowning at her, and leaning down, touched his right boot, "Watch this one. Alright, Slashera?" She nodded, and after quickly getting up, stepped back. And he let out a long sigh, closing his eye. And paced himself. _Step up first on the right. Then down. Then up first on the left, then down. _And opened his eye, frowning at her. "What did I do?" She blinked up at him, and pointed shakily at his right leg, "Y-you used that one. . ." "That would be my _right_ one." he said softly, his hands on his hips, studying her. She frowned up at him, and put her hands on her hips in slight confusion, "Well, is the other _wrong_?" He blinked, staring at her, "No. . . That would be my _left_. . . hold on. . ."

She frowned, blinking, as he took a blue sock, and put it on her left foot, tugging it on extra firmly, as she was sitting on the edge again. Turning to her, he pointed at it, "This is your left foot. Which means that this is your left side. This side has your left arm, left eye, left ear, left leg. Do you understand?" "Blue. Left. Got it," she said. He nodded, "Very good." He then took a red sock, and slid it onto her right foot, with equal firmness, "This is your right foot. Which means this is your right side. This side has your right arm, eye, ear, leg. Do you understand this?" "Blue, left. Red, right. 'Kay. . ." she blinked at him, and pointed at his leg which was across from her red sock, "So is that your right?"

"No. When you look at everyone else, it's the opposite," he replied sternly, "Understand?" she nodded quickly, blinking at him. And he smiled, "Good girl." He stood, and hooking his hands on the sides of her waist, lifted her up to stand on the box, farther away from the edge, "Now, focus on my right foot. . . which one is it?" she blinked, and sucked on her thumb once more, then. . . "That one," she pointed, at the one across from her blue sock. He smiled, choosing to ignore the thumb. For now, "Right. Now, watch my feet. Follow them." She nodded slowly, and watched as he did it again. And turned to gaze up at him, as Slade frowned down at her, "Now, what happened?" She bit her lip, "Your right foot stepped up first, then your left did."

He smiled softly, "Very good. That's alternating. Changing which side you use." "'Kay. Alchernating." she said firmly, nodding, "Got it." He frowned, "No. Al_ter_nating. Al_ter_nating, Slashera." She frowned up at him, "Al . . . TERnating?" He leaned down, to be eye level to her, squatting with his hands on his knees, his blue eye locked on her, "Say it again. You _need_ to _learn_ this." "Al. . . ternating." "Again. Put it together." "Alternating." "Again." "Alternating." "Again." "ALTERNATING!" she said loudly. He smiled, "Good girl. So now, step up with your left foot first. Then step down with your left foot first. Do you remember which one that is?" she frowned down at her legs, and pointed. "You are right. That is your left. Let's start again."

Fifteen more minutes, and Slashera sighed, her arms hanging loosely now, her hands still in his. Slade frowned down at her, "Don't you fall behind." he ordered sternly. She sighed, "I'm not. I'm tired." "How do you feel?" "_Tired_. . ." she looked up at him, frowning up at him, "Sleepy." "Are you hurting?" he said skeptically. She shook her head, blinking up at him. He frowned, "Continue then." She gazed up at him, and then hung her head, continuing.

Ten minutes more. "_Slade! My legs hurt! They hurt!" _she yelped. He frowned down at her. And ordered her to stop, mid step down. Her right leg still up on the platform. He frowned, and leaning down, felt through the leg, and felt her muscles constricting and contracting constantly. Good. They were awake. "How do you feel? Tell me." "They feel. . . my legs feel sad," she whimpered. He turned to her, frowning. "Good. Now, . . ." he stood, and took her hands up. She gazed up at him in disbelief. "I want you to step up with your right leg, then step down with your right. Then step up with your left leg, then down with your left. You have to start alternating. To be able to go back and forth." Slade said firmly. She sighed, and hung her head. Whimpering, "I don't want to."

He frowned, "This'll help you get strong. You don't want to be weak and ugly, do you?" "The ugly duckling turned into a beautiful swan," she protested weakly. He frowned, "That doesn't happen to you. You stay ugly if you become ugly. Now, do you want to be made fun of? Do you want to be ugly? Do you want to be weak like that?" she shuddered, and shook her head. No. The duckling had been sad. She didn't want to be sad. "Alright. Then you have to get strong, right?" he said slowly. She sobbed, and nodded, tears racing down and hitting the platform. He reached out and tilted her chin up, and smiled kindly into her teary black eyes, "Then do it again. We won't do this much longer, little Slashera. I know you're hurting." he assured her softly. And with that said, she did it again. And he counted until. . . _19-20_. "Alright little Slashera. You may stop." He announced. She sighed, and as he dropped her arms, turned, and flopped down to sit on the edge of the box, hunched over, the sweat on her body causing a wet outline of her spine to go down the back of her dress. She sobbed softly, rubbing her legs.

He smiled softly, and sat down beside her. Time to make his move. . . Slade pulled her close with one strong arm, "I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of you, Slashera. That was really good." She sobbed lightly, and blinked, gazing at his arm other arm, wrapped firmly about her, her head pressing up against his chest, "R-really?" Bruce never complimented her like that. He nodded, "Yes." She moved a bit, to face his side, and wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes shut tight, face pressed to the curve of his neck. And knew. She'd do anything to hear that from Slade. Anything. She loved that he was proud of her. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her. Knowing he'd played his cards just right.

After she had gone to the restroom, Slade set her down to a quick breakfast of some fresh fruit and orange juice, which excited Slashera's tongue so much she even asked for more, which was given to halfway fill the once full glass. After she drank that, they returned to the gym. Laying her flat on the floor, he handed her a two pound dumbbell, and she gripped the metal in her hands, as he held it slightly above her. "Now, I want you to push it up, and then bring it down." he murmured softly, and slid out two large fingers, to hold just above her face, kneeling at her head, her hair safe from being stepped on and beneath her, "Don't worry. I'll help hold it for you. . ." he pushed up on the bar a bit, then. . . "Alright, bring it down." she blinked, and he let go. The two pounds rushed down. She shrieked, and he touched it merely with two fingers, and frowned down at her, it just above her chest, her breathing hard, heart racing, eyes wide. He frowned at her, "Push up. You have to push up, Slashera." She gazed into that crystal eye. And then focused. On using her arms to push it up to that face. To "give it back". She gritted her teeth, and gasped, pushing it up. He smiled, "Good. Now _slowly_ let it down." she was ready this time. . . she moved her arms quickly, stopping it, as it came down. He smirked, "Good. Now again." She smiled, and did it some more.

About thirty minutes later, he had her drink some water, and then took her back to the bedroom to take a nap. Slashera crawled under the covers and curled up, and to Slade's dismay, began to once again suck on her thumb. Not bothering to reawaken the girl, he turned, and marched out. . . he had other things to do. . .

Slade frowned hard, opening the soap dispenser in the bathroom, and picking up the lemon juice vial he'd retrieved from, the kitchen, poured half of the container of vile liquid into the normally scentless soap. He smirked, watching the liquid turn yellow. "_Perfect," _he slurred. And screwing the top back on, shook it over the sink. Once it was properly mixed and the yellow was hardly noticeable, he took down the hand towel next. Filling the sink up with water, he let the towel soak, before draining said sink, and pouring the rest of the lemon juice all over the now wet towel. Next, he moved with the damp towel to the kitchen, and popped it into the microwave, which was set on the lowest setting, to heat the towel up. Once it was done, he took it out, smirking. Slashera would learn quite well and all to soon not to suck on that thumb any more. . . he turned, and marched into the bathroom, and hung the towel back up. And opening the mirror, turned to the medicine cabinet on the other side. Pulling out a bar of soap, the soap the way he preferred, he began to wash his own hands. Once that was done, he took a paper towel, the things laying in flat rectangles on the same shelf of the medicine cabinet, and cleaned the water from his hands. Throwing that away, he walked back out. After all, he still had to train himself. And so, in the large gym, he began working with the harder equipment flawlessly as his apprentice slept soundly.

Around 1:30, he heated up some more stew, and turning, marched down the hall to the bedroom room. Leaning down, he rubbed her shoulder with his large hand, having changed into a black shirt and gray pants after his shower. She fluttered her eyes open, half asleep, and rolled her head over, some drool going down her cheek, gazing at him. He smiled softly, "Are you hungry, little Slashera?" Her eyes widened, and she nodded, gazing up at him. He smiled, "Then go wash your hands and come to the kitchen. You do remember where it is, don't you?" She bit her lip, gazing apologetically up at him, and shook her head. He frowned, "I'll show you this time. But then, you must find it on your own." "Okay," she said, beginning to sit up. "You mean 'yes sir'," he gently corrected her. She gazed up at him, then smiled, nodding, "Yes sir." He smiled, and ruffled her bangs with his hand, and she giggled, "Good girl. Come on now."

After she had washed her hands in the bathroom, he led her down the hallway to the appropriate room, her making a mental note that it was the farthest from their room, on the right, just before they would reach the room where she'd found herself earlier. Once again, she was set before the stew. And some water. Once she drank and ate her meal, he led her to another room with his left hand firmly around her right, yet being careful to not cause the girl any pain. The room appeared to be a pure white living room, with a single white couch in it and a white wooden coffee table. There was no TV like her mommy and daddy's home, but the large window set along the couch in the wall let the sun shine brightly into the area, a long floor lamp set at the far left arm of the couch. She blinked upon entering, and he put a firm palm to the top of her back, and pushed her over to where a plastic gun lay on the floor. She gazed at it, then knelt down, and picked it up slowly. She'd never seen anything like it before. . . "It's called a gun, Slashera," he murmured softly, pressing down on her head a bit, causing her to soon sit cross-legged. "Gun," she repeated. He smiled, "That's right. Now, you may play with that while I read," he remarked calmly. She turned her head up, and gazed at him, before nodding. He smiled, "Good girl." Then he moved, sitting on the couch, his back to the arm rest, his legs up on the couch, filling its length out, and picked up a book from the coffee table, on medieval torture methods. One of his favorites. And opening it, began to read, his crystal blue eye flitting to the girl now fiddling with the gun on the floor. It was an exact copy of a normal gun, just unable to fire. She pulled its parts out of their set form, played with the revolver barrel, played with the bullets. "Slashera, don't you eat those little pieces," he said, slightly louder than normal to let her hear him. She turned, holding one, blinking at him, "Yes sir." He smiled, as she slid it back into the revolver, and began to twirl the thing, gazing at it as if it was the most interesting thing on earth. He cracked a smile, and moved his eyes back to the book as she continued to play.

Slashera was intrigued and completely spell bound by her new toy. This "gun" was far more interesting than her stuffed animals! This piece twirled. This could be pulled back and released! And the toy had little things inside! So many new parts! She soon zoned Slade out. This _was _fun. She loved it here. And would tell her mommy all about it when she came to pick her up, hoping that Slade would let her keep it.

Slashera played with her new toy for hours, before Slade finished with his book. Closing it, standing up, he walked around, and knelt before her. Taking the gun from her hands, he flawlessly and quickly put it together again. Snapping it closed, he frowned at her crestfallen face, setting it and his book on the coffee table, "Time for dinner, Slashera. You can play with your new toy again tomorrow." Standing, he turned, and then looked down at her, still on the floor, "I'll take you to the bathroom. Then you have to tell me where the kitchen is." She grinned, shot up, and followed him out. Eager to show him she knew where it was.

"Here we are!" she said triumphantly, walking into the kitchen proudly, having washed her hands, holding his for a change. He chuckled, "Alright, sit down, and I'll make you something to eat." She smiled happily, and bounded over to her chair, and sat down, hands on the edges of the chair. Slade took out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator, and some meat of some kind. After moving around with the frying pans there, he in no time had some eggs cooking, and the sausage links and bacon frying. She leaned over, trying to get a better look, "What are you making?" she asked slowly. as he mixed up some pancake batter, his arms moving quickly. He glanced over his shoulder at her, "What was that?" She got nervous slightly, unsure of the situation, and as he'd expected, she moved her thumb to her mouth. . . he mentally smiled as she did so. . .

"Ah!" she yelped, yanking her thumb out, the bitterness on her face. She gazed sadly at her thumb, as if it had betrayed her. "What's wrong?" he said, in a tone of a question. She turned to him, "Tastes. . .nasty. . ." He smiled softly, "Then maybe you shouldn't suck it, huh?" he turned, and continued. She whimpered. Her thumb had never tasted bad before. . . she slowly moved it back involuntarily, and began to suck, to try to soothe herself. And jumped, whimpering, and slid it out again. Turning, she tried her other thumb. For similar results. She whimpered, tears flowing. What was happening?! She'd been sucking on it earlier, hadn't she?! She decided to sit on her hands, looking morose. "What were you asking before?" he said conversationally, as if he hadn't noticed her actions. In reality, he hadn't taken his eye off of her. She looked up at him, and slowly, "What are you making?" she said, louder than before. He smiled, "Some sausage, bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Okay?" "I've. . . I've never had eggs before. . ." she said slowly, "They'll make you even stronger," he said, smiling at her, "And what does that mean? Remember earlier?" She suddenly beamed. She knew this!

"They'll keep me from becoming ugly and sad!" He chuckled, and nodded, "That's right." He turned around, _"That's right." _he murmured softly. Slashera was adapting very well. . . "Slade?" she called suddenly. He blinked. And didn't turn, "What is it?" he called. "Can . . . can I take the gun with me? When I go with Mommy?" she asked. Careful to be loud enough so he'd hear her. . . He smiled softly. Well, perhaps she wasn't as far as he would like. . . but that was expected. He didn't think she'd break the bond with the woman in one day . . . "Sure. When you go with your mommy," he called. She beamed, then frowned, returning to the thing troubling her, and held up her thumbs, frowning, "Why are my thumbs nasty?" "They aren't nasty. They merely taste bad. That's their way of showing you that you have to stop sucking on them," he replied. She blinked. "Then . . . I'll try to stop," she decided firmly. He smiled softly, "Good girl." He slid the food off of the cooking pans, and fixed two plates, one with one piece of sausage, one piece of bacon, a small pile of eggs, and one pancake, and another with three pieces of sausage, three slices of bacon, the rest of the eggs, and two pancakes. Turning, he moved back to the table, and set the plates down, "Hold on. Don't eat yet," he advised. She nodded, smiling at him, "Yes sir." He turned, and easily fixed some coffee he'd started in a coffee pot for himself, and some milk for her. And the two ate quietly.

After he bathed her in the very bathroom he'd first approached her in yesterday, rubbing the salt off of her small pale body off with a soapy cloth and working some shampoo into her long black locks, rinsing that out, then apply conditioner, he let that wash out, got her out, and after drying her out and putting her in one of his large black T-shirts (her dress was currently getting cleaned in a washing machine and dryer) over her fresh underwear for the night. In no time, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the bed, and he sat on the bed up above her, combing her locks of hair out. "Slade?" she asked suddenly, blinking, her hands on her knees. "Hmm?" he said, continuing to comb her tangles out. "I had fun today," she announced to him. He smiled softly, "I'm glad. I did too." "Are we gonna do it again tomorrow?" she asked carefully. "I'd like that," he replied softly. She beamed.

After he'd had her brush her teeth and wash her hands after using the restroom, he laid down with her once again to go asleep. She stuck her thumb in her mouth once more, but grimaced, even in her subconscious state, and moved it away, and slid it under her pillow, frowning slightly, and he smiled, running some fingertips through her hair. The child was a project to him, truly. And in no time, he expected that she'd be his perfect apprentice, doing his bidding willingly, with all of her heart. All of her soul. All of her being. She was nothing more than an apprentice under him. He knew this. _But even though all that, it's been so long since I've seen such innocence, such trust. . . _he couldn't help but feel affection to the little girl lying in the sheets beside him. Her eyes flickered open, and she sleepily gazed up at him, and smiled, reaching up. She touching his cheek, "I love you, Slade." She half yawned, and fell right back to sleep. Not waiting for his reply. He smirked softly at her. _And I'm quite fond of you, little Slashera. _Laying his head down on his arm, he closed his eye, and fell asleep.

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A/N: Just so you know, before I wrote this chapter, I DID make sure to look into what children Slashera's age actually are capable of doing, regarding working out. I was quite amazed at what I found out. I was really like 0_0 well, alright then! I wish I/my parents had known that when I was that age. Anyway, please review! Just remember, no flamers! I love _constructive_ criticism!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans. I don't own Slade. I don't own Batman. I don't own Bruce.

A/N: Alright, so after I posted Chapter 2, I decided to go on ahead and post Chapter 3. (I have already had all of these written and proofread beforehand. But for good measure, I reviewed them once more.)

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Once again, she wore the brown smock dress. Slashera slid the "bullets" into the "cylinder" of the gun, and slowly, carefully, snapped said cylinder into place. On the second day of playing with the gun, she'd finally asked Slade what these two devices were. Blinking, and holding the gun tightly in her hands, she carefully aimed it away from her face, and at the wall, and pulled back on the trigger. The little plastic piece flew out of the gun, and bounced off of the wall. Smiling, she eagerly crawled over, picked it up off the carpet, and sat there, near the wall, and opening the cylinder once more, slid the bullet again into the new hole there. Turning as she closed it back, she pointed the gun to the door of the room, and pulled again. The bullet bounced off of the wooden door. She smiled again, and crawled quickly over, picked up the little bullet, and slid it into the gun, having opened it once more, and slid it into the fresh hole. Turning, she faced the wall she'd just had her back to, and lifting the gun, shot it across, to land feet from the wall. She pouted. It didn't go far enough! She crawled over, and picked up the bullet, and reloaded it.

She'd begun to play with the gun like this just yesterday, and had been lucky enough to have only had the bullet hit her in the forehead. There, a small red mark was today. She'd had it facing her. . . Slade had immediately taken the toy gun away from her, and pointed it at the wall before showing her the "proper" way to point the toy. He then had pulled what he had identified as the "trigger". Once that had been done, he'd taken the sobbing girl to the bathroom and using a towel from a cabinet there, had wiped the tears away from her face, before fixing her some milk to calm her down.

In the end, Slashera was happy Slade had taught her how to make the bullets fly out. It helped her to occupy herself while he read. And he tended to do that for a long time in the afternoon . . . lifting the gun, she pulled back on the trigger once more. And grinned as the bullet hit the door. She began to crawl over once again. So engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't notice the man studying her over the pages of the Civil War book he had. . .

Slade couldn't help but smile at the girl, sitting on the couch in his own white T-shirt and blue jeans. Slashera had come far in the week she'd been with him. Each morning, he'd wake her up, and they'd go to the gym. The first two days after that first day, he had her merely lengthen the amount of repetitions she had to do on the step platform. On the fourth day of training, however, he didn't hold her hands, and merely knelt down with his two hands extended to her, to give her a sense of security, as she walked up and down on her own. Of course, she'd come close to falling a couple of times, but the point was, she was gaining more balance, and he always caught her before she hit the platform. He made_ sure_ of that. She needed to trust him. If she was going to remain loyal to him with the training _he'd _put her through. . . They'd of course returned to the original amount of repetitions, and gradually worked their way back up over the next three days. And the bench pressing with the smaller weights had improved, as well, and he planned to move her up to three pounds soon. But perhaps the most interesting part, besides her physical strength improving, was her lack of references to her mother.

As she'd realized she had gotten somewhat stronger on the second day, she had commented that she thought her mommy would be proud of her when she came to pick her up from Slade. Slade had merely said "Perhaps" and continued with the training. As the next two days went on, however, her references to her mother were growing less and less frequent, until finally, on the fourth day, she'd stopped mentioning the woman. That didn't necessarily mean that the child had forgotten the woman, but it _did _signal Slade that she was becoming used to time without the woman. It seemed to Slade that while Slashera had initially been happy with him, and who wouldn't be, considering that ass of a millionaire being her original "daddy", she had still longed for her mother's company. Therefore, she had mentioned her, if only to try to reassure herself that the woman would come for her again. If Slade understood things correctly, the less she talked, the more comfortable she grew away from the woman. And that was precisely what he wanted to happen. What he _required _to happen. So he smiled softly, gazing at her, and then returned to his book.

Slashera blinked, sliding the cylinder, and then all the bullets, out of the gun, and slid one bullet back into said cylinder. After this, she turned it three times, watching where it went, and slid the cylinder back into place. Turning to the wall, she pulled the trigger. And nothing happened. She blinked, and pulled it again. And the bullet flew out, and hit the wall opposite Slade. She left it there for the moment, and turned to another bullet. Picking it up, she blinked, and opening up the cylinder, slid it into a different hole. And slid the cylinder back into place. Then turned to the wall, and pulled on the trigger. The bullet flew out and hit the wall perfectly this time . . . she smiled. She knew which hole would be next now. . . She slid the cylinder back out, and put one in, where she knew it'd come out, then put one in to the right of that, and snapped it closed. Turning, she pointed it at the wall, and pulled once. Then twice . . . the second bullet didn't come. She blinked, and slid the cylinder out again, put another bullet in, and then one to its left. Turning the gun around, she snapped the cylinder closed again. She blinked, and pulled twice, with satisfying results. She crawled over, having just used up all but one of her bullets, and quickly loaded the gun.

Suddenly, with her back to him, she felt Slade watching her. Turning, looking over her shoulder, she gazed at him with black eyes, to find him reading once more. She blinked, and turned back to the gun, and paused. She'd been with Slade a long time. And while she didn't necessarily miss her mommy, she had to wonder: was she ever coming back for Slashera? Of course, Slashera couldn't honestly say she would mind spending more time with Slade. She had fun! Even though he got her legs to hurt and her forehead still tingled . . . in the end, he hugged her . . . he said he was proud of her . . . that was far more than what Bruce had done. Slade was different. . . Slade loved her. But still, she couldn't help but wonder . . . where was mommy?

She gazed back at Slade. She'd asked him about the gun, and he'd told her what she wanted to know. He'd explained the food he gave her, and he'd explained to her what was happening when her thumbs were turning nasty . . . surely he knew the answer to her new question?

Slade was reading deeply into the strategies of William T. Sherman when he heard her. "Slade?" she called from the floor. He frowned, blinking, and turned to her as she gazed back at him from where she sat. He smiled softly at her, "What is it, little Slashera?" She frowned at him, and turned, gazing at the wall, "I . . . Slade, can I ask you a question?" "Of course, come over here and ask," he replied smoothly, and moved his legs so that he sat only on the far left cushion of the couch. She turned, dropped the gun, and slowly stood up, and walked around the coffee table, to sit on the middle cushion, her legs dangling off of the edge. Slade smiled softly, and closed the book, and leaned forward. Setting the book down on the coffee table, he turned to her, picked her up, and sat her on his lap, facing him, "So what is it?" he said softly to her.

She bit her lip, gazing up at him, and turned to his arms wrapped around her, and ran her finger along the grooves of his muscles on said arms. He smiled softly, noting that as she tried to calm herself more she didn't so much as twitch her thumb. Moving one arm he touched her chin with his hand and lifted it up. Her eyes met his own. "Slashera, you need to tell me what you wanted to say," he said firmly, yet not losing his calming tone. She took a deep breath then, "Slade? Is my . . . is my mommy ever coming back?" she asked slowly, blinking at him with big, trusting black eyes.

He blinked back at her. Considered lying to her. . . Then frowned, "No. Your mommy isn't coming to get you," he muttered firmly. And saw the tears welling up in eyes which instantly filled with hurt. He pressed on. He wanted to sever her bond with the woman right here, right now. He couldn't have asked for a better opportunity, "She left you outside. She didn't want you anymore," he remarked firmly, and two crystal tears streaked down her shaking cheeks, the hurt evident in her eyes, "But I do want you, Slashera," he murmured softly, gripping her arms a bit, "And I took you in." She closed her eyes, and tilted her head down, tears racing, but not shaking any more. He sat back and watched her, rubbing his thumbs along her arms. Knowing he'd just caused her heart to break. But such a thing was necessary to achieve his goal, and his goal would _not _be compromised, no matter how fond he'd grown towards her. In a way, those tears were wonderful to him.

Finally, it seemed, she gazed up at him, with big, teary eyes, "S-Slade?" she whispered. He smiled softly back at her, "Yes, little Slashera?" "C-can I stay with you?" she whispered, shaking. He smiled softly at her, "Of course you can, Slashera. Everything alright now?" She smiled weakly at him, "Yes sir. . ." she turned, and frowned down at the book on the table, "What's that about?" He chuckled, and picked it up, "It's a book on the Civil War." She blinked, and ran her fingers over the top of it, a picture of Gettysburg, "Symbol Oar?" "No, no. CIVIL WAR," he said, accentuating the words more. "Civil . . . War? What's that?" she asked, frowning at him. Curious. He smiled softly at her, "It was this big fight. Between two areas of this country." "Country?" she frowned at him. "Let me show you," he murmured, and using his arms, shifted her so that she sat beside him. And opened the book in his lap. There was a map, on the inside cover of the book, of the United States. She blinked, gazing down at it, and he explained, "This. . ." he moved his pointer finger over the outline of the country, "We live somewhere in here." She nodded, "So we live in a home . . . inside a country?" He smiled, "That's right. Now . . . you see this in the Blue?" he pointed to the Northern Region. She nodded. "This is where one side of the fight lived. The North. Now you see this?" he pointed to a red region below it. The South. She nodded, "Yes, sir. . ." "This was where the other lived. The South." "Why were they fighting? Did they get mad at each other?" she asked, turning her head, gazing up at him, leaning back on an arm he had rested behind her. He turned, and smiled softly at her, "Yes. They got really mad at each other. And a lot of people fought for them."

"What are you reading about?" she asked, blinking at him. He turned to her, and smiled softly, "I was reading about William Tecumseh Sherman and Ulysses S. Grant. They were fighting for the North." She gazed at him. And suddenly, wanted him to read to her. Like mommy used to . . . she frowned suddenly, and lowered her eyes to gaze at the book. "M-mommy used to read to me," she murmured, sadness in her tone. Not really talking to him. Just thinking out loud. He smiled softly at her, "Would you like me to read to you, little Slashera?" She smiled weakly up at him, still a bit pale and shaky. She nodded, "I'd like that, father Slade."

Slashera lay against Slade's shoulder, her legs curled up beneath her on the couch, and he smiled softly, crossing his legs and propping them up on the coffee table. Flipping to the page he had been at, he cleared his throat, then began, "General William T. Sherman moved south from Tennessee towards the railroad hub of Atlanta, with 90,000 men against Joseph Johnston's 60,000 [men]. . ." (This was taken from _America: A Narrative History Edition 8a. by George Brown Tindall and David Emory Shi. _pg. 691).

An hour later, having paced himself slightly and emphasized the meanings behind the war strategies of Sherman and Grant, Slade came to a section on Appomattox. "During the spring of 1865, General Grant's army kept _pushing, probing, and battering_ the entrenched Rebels around Petersburg, Virginia, twenty miles south of Richmond. . ." (_America: A Narrative History Edition 8a. by George Brown Tindall and David Emory Shi. _pg. 697) he glanced down at Slashera, half expecting the two year old to be asleep. Instead, she gazed at the book, her eyes moving over the words. While she couldn't read them, it was clear she was paying attention. She looked up at him, gazing at him, "What happened next?" He smiled softly at her, "You tell me . . ." "Well the North won, didn't they?" she said, blinking up at him, frowning. He chuckled, "Now why do you say that?" "Well, . . . Sher . . . Sherma. . . Sherman? Well he . . . didn't he beat up the South people?" "That's right," he said softly. "And here. . ." she pointed at the page in general, "Grant's hurting the South, right?" She looked up at him, gazing at him, waiting for his judgment.

He nodded, and she smiled, "That's right. By using Grant's people to surround a group of the South, they were able to make that group give in. And Sherman took down what they needed most to fight. So the South had no choice but to let the North win." She lowered her eyes, as sadness gripped her. "Poor South. . ." she mumbled. He frowned, "Don't feel bad for the South," he remarked coldly. She looked up at him, gazing at him. He smiled slowly, "They should have been ready for Grant and Sherman. It's their fault that they lost. It's as simple as that. Understand?" She frowned. But just because the South wasn't ready didn't mean the North had to beat them so badly, did it? But gazing at that crystal eye, she decided: Slade certainly knew more about this than she did. So she must be the one wrong. She gazed into his crystal eye, "I underst. . . y-yes sir. . ."

He smiled softly, and turning his head, leaned forward to put the book down, "Alright, Slashera. Let's go get something to eat, alright? Go put your gun together, go to the bathroom to wash your hands, and come to the kitchen. Do you remember where that is?" She nodded, "Yes sir!" she said happily, and getting up, rushed over, and quickly put her gun together. He smiled softly at her, and stood up.

Slashera lay curled up in a light blue T-shirt that night, the article of clothing stretching out over her stomach full of teriyaki steak and stir fry, on the white fluffy bed, gazing down at the sheets below her, on her side and facing Slade, who was, rather than curled up, laid out on his side, his head on his arm, as was normal for him. She wrapped her arms around her legs, which were drawn up beneath her, and despite being full of food, felt empty. . . _"Mary, sweetie, I love you. Remember that. I love you. . ." . . ."She left you outside. She didn't want you anymore." _She let yet another tear race down her cheek, and shook slightly. She couldn't believe that her mother, who had claimed that she loved her, would just leave her. . . What had she done wrong? She couldn't recall purposefully hurting her mommy! She opened her eyes, glaring at the covers, as if they withheld the information she sought. Slade shifted slightly in his sleep, before settling back into his previous position. She stared. . . _"But I do want you, Slashera," he murmured softly, gripping her arms a bit, "And I took you in." _She glanced up at him and his closed eyes. She took a deep breath, and inched slightly closer, closing her eyes. She didn't know if she'd stop feeling upset about her mommy . . . but Slade was going to take care of her. . . she buried her head into his chest, sighing, nuzzling close, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of his scent in. And let it calm her.

Slade's crystal blue eye fluttered open and he let a small smirk cross his face. And wrapped his arms around the girl up against him. As she'd been lost in her thoughts, he'd seen the conflict raging within. And while he would rather it not be there, he knew that soon, that conflict wouldn't exist. With him training her up, the child would _not _miss or worry about her mother, and she would _not _question him. She would only obey. He chuckled softly, and she snuggled deeper, as his chest vibrated against her, that being apparently comforting to her. And lowered his chin into the orphan's black locks, closing his eye. And holding her close, fell asleep. Sometimes, it was just too easy. . .

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A/N: So, writing this chapter I loved the "story time" Slashera got to have with Slade, even if they weren't reading fluffy fairy tales about princesses. I also almost cried when Slade told her that her mom wasn't coming back. And I just grinned when Slashera was like _"Well the North won, didn't they?" _But what did you think? I'll tell you what I think: If I had had Slade for a history teacher back in middle school, I might have learned a bit more in class. I always hated it when my history teachers would just drone on and on and never let you figure anything out or ask questions. Luckily, in high school I had a better one for US History. Still, I wasn't too sure if I liked it. Then, in College, I had an awesome one that always taught us to look outside of the box for American History, and now I love reading about history. But I'd also love to read a review, as always! So please, go ahead and review! The only way any author becomes a better writer is if they receive reviews and constructive criticism! (Or if you want, just a review about things that you liked in the chapter. ;) )


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Slade or Teen Titans. And I do not own Bruce Wayne or Batman. They'd be too much trouble to have to deal with, anyway. ;) Just Kidding! But seriously, I don't own them.

A/N: Okay, so this is Chapter 4. And is set a year after Slade started training Slashera. So, enjoy!

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The gray morning clouds covered the land in a thick blanket, seeming to smother the world beneath them in quiet isolation. And as with a baby in a tight blanket, it seemed each living thing felt restricted, confined to their beds, satisfied with that rather than having to face the dreary atmosphere outside. Suddenly, a golden stream of light broke through the thick blanket, and the sun shone down upon the world below, ending the world of gray and creating a world of brilliant life. Inspired by the light, the bluebird took off from his nest in a tree in the forest, and as it sang its morning song of rising, flitted gaily through the trees of its home, and soon over the fields surrounding said forest. Happy to simply do what it was created to do, to live freely and to sing for all the world to enjoy its song. Its beautiful blue feathered wings were gilded in golden light in no time, as the sunshine shown down upon the little creature. The blue bird reveled in this addition to its glorious being, believing that everything in the universe had come together for it to enjoy this moment. Oblivious to the fact that the sun did not focus all its energy to just make it happy. That what was occurring this glorious morning was nothing special. In its joy, the bird did not realize that as the sun shone down upon it, it also shone down upon various other things, regardless of their appearance. In this way, the sun also shone through the window of a certain warehouse, and into the bedroom inside.

Slashera lay curled up in her tight little ball underneath the large white sheets. As the sun hit her face, she groaned softly, and snuggled deeper up against the chest beside her, her little muscular arms wrapped firmly about herself, and with her nose, took a deep sniff of the man lying beside her, likewise asleep. And let out a long sigh, a smile spreading over her features as the soothing scent relaxed her body. The girl involuntarily buried her face deeper against the black muscle shirt the man wore over his rippling muscles. Having been slightly awakened by the sun, she began to drift back into her deep sleep, when . . . her black onyx eyes shot wide open, staring, as the annoying buzzing of an alarm filled her ears. Rolling quickly over, she quickly sat up, blinking at the room around her, fully awake. Then turned to the culprit that had interrupted her sleep. . . frowning at the small white digital alarm clock on the bedside table on the left side of the bed, her side, which brilliantly read in its neon green print 5:45. Blinking, she leaned over, and with the flip of a switch located on the top of the clock, turned the alarm off. Turning, she blinked at the man lying still asleep beside her. Took in the relaxed face, the white hair . . . his right arm folded beneath his head on the pillow, his left one lazily draped over his side, the sheets down to his waist. Slade was rolled over on his side as usual, facing her. Leaning forward, she gripped the man's left upper arm, and gave it a shake, "Slade, it's time." She announced. The man's crystal blue eye fluttered open.

Slade took in the girl beside him. A month ago, he'd introduced her to alarm clocks, and had instructed _her_ to wake him up, rather than the other way around. The first few times, she'd actually slept right through them, and hadn't gotten up until an hour later. But now . . . He chuckled, and reached his left hand over, and ruffled her already disheveled bangs, "So it is. Good girl. Well then, let's get dressed, shall we?" Beaming, the girl whipped off the sheets from over them, and walked immediately to the foot of the bed, where her newly cleaned smock dress lay, as it did every morning. In no time, she'd slid out of his navy blue shirt she'd worn to bed, and had tugged the dress on. Turning to him, she smiled, "READY!" she declared brightly. He smiled back at her, "Let's go." He got up as well. After both of them quickly used the restroom and Slade had brushed her hair before throwing it up in a ponytail, the two went to the gym.

Slashera blinked, stepping up onto the platform then down again, sweat glistening on her body, an hour into training, as Slade stood off to the side, two five pound bench press weight disks under her arms and held tightly in place by her fingers. "How many is that?" He remarked calmly. She glanced at him, but did not hesitate in the slightest, "138." He smiled warmly back, "Very, very good. Now, do one hundred more." She smiled at him, and nodded, turning. Continuing, her eyes focused ahead of her, "Yes sir," the girl answered, unable to hide the happiness in her voice at his compliment. He smiled calmly at this, him in a dark charcoal gray shirt and light gray warm up pants himself. Arms folded behind his back. Over the past year, Slashera had made incredible progress. He could easily have moved her up to two eight pound weights. But adding such weight could wait. "Faster, little Slash," he murmured, using a slightly shorter version of her name. She blinked. She had already been going at a high pace . . . but if Slade wanted her to step it up . . . she pushed herself a bit more, and heightened her speed by the tiniest percent.

"Good," he remarked. Smirking, watching as the already forming muscles of her body grinded together in perfect harmony as she trained, like cogs moving perfectly in sync with one another. Most if not all of the baby fat had disappeared, as her muscles had developed through the training. He couldn't deny that Slashera had exceeded his expectations of her, with all the quick improvements she'd made along the way. He was sure it would be time soon to step it up to the next level of training. Very, very soon.

After she had drunk half a gallon of water, he had her lay down on her back on the floor. "Here you go," he murmured softly, handing her the eight pound medicine ball. She nodded, and began to push it away from her, him cradling it lightly with his fingers as the bottom ridge of the object met them, then she moved it down again, then up, then down.

She bit her cheek a bit, as she pushed it up from her little body, feeling her heartbeat in her ears, her muscles grinding together. And licked her lips a bit, continuing to breathe in and out, in and out, tasting the salt on her skin. He smiled softly down at her, "You're doing wonderful today, Slashera," he praised her. She managed a smile, "Thank you, Father Slade," she breathed. "How many is that?" he continued. "Mmmm, 43," she said. Pushing it up again. He smiled, "Correct. You have 157 more to go, Slashera." She nodded, "Yes sir." And continued.

Finally, he took the medicine ball away from her, and smiled down at her, holding up the half full gallon container of water again, "Finish this off, and then you'll do pushups and lunges." She nodded, and slowly sat up, her smock practically a second skin it was so damp, and kneeling, he tilted the gallon jug to her lips, holding it firmly by its handle. She gulped the drink down, her Adam's apple thumping up and down, up and down . . . she felt tiny rivers of the sweet liquid trickle out of the corners of her lips and down her chin, as he cradled the back of her head with his other hand, ruffling her hair a bit, "I'm very proud of you. You're working hard today, aren't you?" he murmured gently. She nodded, still drinking, her dark eyes on his crystal blue one. "It shows," he assured her, smiling at the girl. And pulled away, just as . . . she wrapped her sweaty arms around his large neck, and hugged him tight, "Thank you," she whispered. He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound, and she grinned, the sound gradually slowing her own heartbeat, it was so calming to her now. And he wrapped his much larger arms around her small, damp body. For a few minutes. Then he slid himself away from her, all business. She blinked up at him, as he stood and spoke to her, "Let's go get some breakfast." She nodded, "Yes sir," and followed him out of the room obediently, blinking up at the tall man.

After a quiet, quick breakfast of pancakes and bacon, Slade followed the jogging girl back to the gym, walking calmly himself. He smirked, as she rushed through the doorway to the large workout room. It was clear to him that while the child had made significant advancements physically, she had mentally made even greater success. Since that day on the couch, she'd never, not even once, mentioned her mother ever again. And why would she? For the first two years of her life, she had looked to her mother for guidance. For truth. Her mother, who had been her primary caregiver. Now, with the abandonment of the woman, Slashera's trust in "Mommy" had been shattered, to be replaced by her new caregiver and primary role model. Slade never mentioned her mother. And because of that, Slashera didn't, either. She looked to Slade for truth. For comfort. And Slade alone. By keeping her in isolation, he had a child that was devoted to him entirely, and one that would never question his ways. After all, who would she compare him to? He smirked, and walked into the gym. She smiled at him, happy he had arrived. Walking over, he put a hand on her bangs, ruffling them. _You are MINE, little Slashera. And MINE ALONE to command. _

After she had done 250 pushups and 150 lunges with the two five pound weights under her arms again, stretching her legs as far as they would go, they ate chicken kabobs made up of teriyaki chicken, mushrooms, bell pepper, and tomatoes with some fried rice. Slashera smiled, picking off each of the things off of the stick, and put each into her mouth, savoring the flavors. She adored all the herbs Slade put into their food when the type of food he made allowed for it. It was like a lot of little flavors playing around on her tongue. And because of the variations he used, everything she ate, she knew that she'd never tasted anything like that before. . . as she ate another piece of chicken, getting some of the sauce on her hands, she was tempted to lick it off . . . frowning, she looked down in her lap, and rubbed it on the napkin there. Knowing that her fingers wouldn't like that. . . Slade smiled, and picked off one of his own pieces, and popped it in his mouth, grinding the meat between his teeth, watching as she picked up the glass of water, and gulped some of that down, eyes closed. _That's my girl._

Slashera frowned, hours later, sliding the bullets into the toy gun, pointing said gun at the wall, and pulling the trigger five times, watching as the bullets shot out, one by one, and pinged against the wall. She blinked as each hit the wall, then moved over, and picked up each of the bullets, and reloaded the gun. Turning to the wall opposite, she stuck out her tiny arms, braced slightly, and shot five more times, trying to get quicker each time she pulled the trigger. And smiled. A bit faster . . . she glanced back at Slade, as she got up, and moved over to where the bullets lay. As she slid them into the gun, he only smiled at her, his crystal eye watching her. He didn't say anything. She turned, frowning at the gun, and bit her lip, before turning, and shooting the bullets in the direction of the door, pulling the trigger even faster that time. They landed feet from it. She frowned, got up, and walked over, before sitting down and reloading the gun. Turning to the wall opposite, she blinked, and pulled the trigger, moving her fingers even quicker. Every day, he encouraged her to load the gun and pull the trigger faster. And wouldn't read to her until she had done it to his satisfaction. So she continued, trying her hardest to shoot faster each time.

Finally it seemed, _"_Very good, Slashera. . . why don't you go to the bookcase and pick a book for me to read to you?" he murmured. She practically sprinted to the small wooden box of shelves, which were full to burst with books on the Bolshevik Revolution, the Nazi Concentration Camps, the Civil War, and Dictators or Warlords. . . She smiled, and let her eyes go over the leather bound copies of different widths and heights and colors. She knew most of the titles simply by the color of the book, and what shelf each was on. And so she knew which ones she was allowed to pick. The rule was that if he had read from two different types of books in the past two days, she had to pick a different type. She frowned, blinking, gazing at them all. Yesterday, he'd read to her about the Concentration Camps, and before that the Civil War. . . that was her favorite subject. . . so today. . . she smiled, and pulled out the black and red leather bound book, entitled in gold lettering _Strangling the Baby: Pushing a Nation Over the Edge. _

In no time, she was curled into the crook of his arm, her gun sitting on the coffee table, her legs folded beneath her while his were stretched and resting on the table, her head resting on his chest, as he read with his deep voice about the Civil War of Russia, and about the October Revolution of 1917, of Lenin, the Red Russians, the White Russians, and how through Woodrow Wilson's "Missionary Diplomacy" the US had pushed the Soviet Union deeper into their own paranoia. By fulfilling Karl Marx's prediction that when Communism would rear its head in the world, to right the wrongs the elite had imposed upon the disadvantaged, the Capitalist world would try to "strangle" the baby in the cradle. Try to stamp it out. In this instance, as Slade had explained to her time after time, the Bolsheviks, or the Soviet Union as their nation was called, was the "baby", and the US was the "attempting murderer". By validating a fear that Marx might have kindled in Lenin, and later Stalin, America had sent the Russians on the defensive, in which the Communists would try to create buffer "cushion" states to protect itself from the Capitalists. Slade had explained such states to her once by using couch pillows to surround her, and then shot her little toy bullets from her toy gun at them, showing that the Russians sought security in their "cushion" states, from the attacking Capitalists. Because of the later rapid accumulation of such states, or countries, he declared, America would later fear the spread of Communism, and attack the arising communist governments out of pure fear.

"So it was all a big misunderstanding?" Slashera had said upon hearing this the first time, frowning up at him, "Why didn't one side just tell the other how it felt?" He had smirked back, and rubbed her bangs, "That would have made a lot more sense, wouldn't it? Little Slashera?" amused by her innocence. Knowing all too well that at that point, both sides would have shown up at the conference bearing arms and bodyguards. She had sighed, rolling her eyes, shaking her head, "So one was just trying to protect itself. What did the other think?" He had smiled, "The other was terrified of something it didn't understand, among other things." "Well then why didn't _they _read Marx's book?!" she gasped, staring up at him. Hands on her hips. He smiled, "Not sure. . . tell me, little one. . ." he knelt down, and smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder, and she blinked back at him, "Would _you _like for me to read it with you one day? _The Communist Manifesto?_" Her eyes had grown so wide, and she had smiled from ear to ear, and jumped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, _"Oh I WOULD Father Slade!" _He had only chuckled, wrapping another large arm easily around her tiny back. _"I'll see what I can do." _

Slade smiled as he went over the Revolution once more with Slashera. Despite how many times she'd heard him read this, it seemed the child always found something new to be fascinated with. As a new idea donned on her, she turned to him. He smiled down at her, "Just think of something, Little Slash?" "Well. . . both sides felt like they were doing the right thing. And each made the other only think that more, huh?" He frowned, "Excuse me? Please, explain. . ." "Well, the Capitalist guys. . . they thought Communism was bad. . . which was wrong. They didn't know anything about it. . . but then when they tried to do what they thought was right, the Communists felt like they had to protect themselves! So they were doing what they thought was right. . . then later, the Capitalists would do the same thing over again, and then. . ." "So it's a cycle? It continues on and on, and on and on?" Slade said, blinking at her. She frowned, and turned to gaze at the words on the pages, "I. . . I guess . . . do you think they're still fighting? I mean, the _US_ Civil War ended, right? With Grant and Sherman beating the South?" He smiled, "They're not fighting any more, if that makes you feel any better. . . not as much, anyway. . ." she gazed up at him, eyes wide, _"Really? _Who won?" "No one did," he murmured back, "Eventually, both sides. . . kinda got tired of competing with one another. It cost a lot of money. So it died down. . . kind of like one agreed to stop, if the other did. . . the beginning of that was with Détente. . . You see, what they did was, they wanted to be stronger than one another. So they kept competing. . . it was called the Cold War. But Détente, which means "thawing", which means when you take something cold, and you make it warmer. . . it was created in the 1970s. . ." "So they don't fight any more?" she said, gazing up at him. In awe that he knew so much. As always. He smiled at her, and ruffled her bangs, "Not as much, at least." She smiled at him, "That's alright. . . did the Capitalists finally read that book?" He chuckled, "I guess so."

She let him continue for about 20 more minutes, then turned to the man again, blinking. He smiled softly down at her, _"You just seem to be full of ideas today, aren't you? Little Slashera?" _"I . . . I was thinking. . . why did they decide to stop getting stronger?" He frowned at her, blinking. She took that as a sign to continue, "I mean. . . I like getting stronger. . ." she frowned, her eyes falling to his abdomen, and running a finger in circles on it. He smiled, "Not all people want to get stronger like you. . ." he lifted her chin up, and she could see the pride in his eye. It welled her up with joy. "You're very, very special, little Slashera. And that's very, very good. I'm proud of you," she smiled, and flung her arms around his neck, _"Thank you, Father Slade. I love you." _he only smiled, and hugged her tight to him. _"You're welcome, Little Slash." _Once she'd turned around, he continued to read, as if nothing had happened.

That night she lay, once more, curled up under the sheets, eyes closed, wearing a light gray shirt of his, her arms wrapped around her drawn up knees, her head resting gently on the white pillow, her head next to his chest, the digital clock on the bedside table behind her reading 10:00. Slade watched her, blinking down at her. The child'd fallen asleep approximately an hour and fifteen minutes ago, and now that she was soundly asleep. . . turning slightly, as to not unsettle the child lying on the bed beside him, he moved the large pillow from the floor on his side of the bed with a dark blue muscle shirt on top of it sewn firmly in place up onto the bed with them. Turning to her, he smirked, and felt the small speaker in it thumping away, a recording of his own heartbeat. . . sliding away, he quickly propped the pillow up against her, getting quickly up from the memory foam mattress, being sure to not unsettle the child in the least. He watched her, as she snuggled deeper against the pillow, oblivious to the fact that it wasn't him. He smirked down at her, turned, and silently crept out of the room. He had things to attend to, after all. . .

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A/N: Huh, now where is he going? Where do you think? Did you like the chapter? The next one is much longer. I promise. So, yeah, please review! ;) And by the way, I did look it up. It's not that uncommon for women to have Adam's Apples. Just so you know. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or Batman. Or _The Most Dangerous Game._

A/N: So now we're going to figure out just what Slade was up to. Enjoy!

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Sunlight had just begun to shine down upon the child when Slade returned. He let a self-satisfied smirk cross his face, finding her still burrowed deep into the imitation pillow he'd come up with. Walking firmly over to his dresser, he knelt down, and slowly slid out the bottom drawer, taking out the only bundle of cloth that lay within. Turning, he walked to the bed, and sat it down firmly at the foot of said bed, and moving over to his side, pulled back the sheets ever so slightly and slid in, careful not to make a sound as to wake the sleeping child. Once he was close enough, he quickly removed the pillow from her, slid the pillow over the side of the bed and underneath it, and pressed himself up against her, not enough to harm but enough that in her sleep she didn't notice a difference. As he pulled the covers up, he watched as she only snuggled deeper, making a happy moaning noise.

As he gazed down at her, the man wondered what the child dreamed of. Soon, she'd realize that dreams were pointless. . . He had a long time ago. All one could do was do the best they could with what they had. _And for me, that stops only just short of a dream._ He thought, smirking. Laying on his side, he let his right arm, the one he would have been laying on, flop over the pillow on his side of the bed, and laying his head firmly on top of it, closed his crystal blue eye, his other hand flopped on top of him. It was time to catch a few minutes' sleep before the day began. Luckily for Slade, that was all the time he needed.

Ten minutes later, Slashera shot up in bed, blinking, gazing dead ahead, immediately awakening to the alarm, just as she did every morning. Turning, she blinked at it, and was reaching to turn it off. . . She frowned, cocking her head in confusion with her finger inches from the desired button. Yesterday morning when she'd woken up, the sequence of numbers had been 5, then a 4, then another 5. . . This morning it was a 6, a 0, and another 0. . .she frowned at it a second more, the alarm still going off, then leaning forward, turned it off. What did it matter that the sequence was different? All she knew was that she was to turn it off and wake up Father Slade. And that was precisely what she was about to do. Turning to Slade, she gazed at his sleeping face, and leaning up, shook his shoulder, _"Slade? Slade, it's time to wake up." _she whispered. Slade's crystal blue eye shot open immediately, and he frowned at her before smiling and sitting up as well, "So it is. Good job, Little Slashera. . ." He turned to her and reaching up, ruffled her bangs. Then turned to the alarm clock. . . "Weren't there different numbers there yesterday?" She frowned and bit her lip, glancing at it, "I thought that too . . . but. . . I just thought that I was supposed to wake you up when it went off. . ." She lowered her eyes to the sheets.

"That's right, little Slash. Good job," he replied. She beamed, instantly shooting her head up to smile at him. He smiled back for a moment. Then turning, took the covers off of him, "Alright, well now, let's move along, shall we? Go and get dressed." She grinned, nodded, and jumped out of bed and walking quickly down to the foot of it. And frowned, stopping immediately, and gazing at the bundle of folded cloth at the foot of it. Reaching out timidly, she slowly felt of the black material, before bringing her other hand up, and picking up the top fold, pulled it towards her, letting it fall out before her, so that she got a good look at it.

Slashera frowned hard at the thing in her hands. Thoroughly confused. It looked as if it were one of Slade's shirts, and one pair of his warm up pants, put together. But it was much smaller than Slade's clothes, and the arms on the shirt were far too long. . . "It's a jumpsuit. You will wear it every day now," he explained as he walked up behind her, arms crossed over his chest. She frowned, and turning her head, blinked up at him, "But why, Father Slade?" He blinked, "Because you wish to get stronger. The dress limited your movement far too much. If you want to get stronger, this new suit is necessary." He assured her. Smiling gently down at the child. She smiled, "Thank you, Father Slade." Then she frowned as she turned to it, "But how do I get it on?" He smiled, "With my help."

In no time, he had revealed that there were two tiny Velcro strips sewn into the top ridge of the bottom part of the suit, and on the underside of the bottom of the upper part. Once pulled apart, this seam released the two from one another, and then it was as simple as putting on pants and a shirt. In no time, he had resealed the two and sent the girl to the bathroom to use the restroom as he got dressed.

Slashera was washing her hands when he walked up behind her, and moving his hands down to her hair, the man began to brush it, blinking down at her. She blinked and stopped, expecting him to throw it up in a ponytail as always. But this time was different. She blinked, frowning, as the man above her began to weave her hair into a braid, gently letting his fingers guide her strands into the long ropelike hairstyle. "Father Slade? Why is everything different today?" she said. Confused. First the clock, then the new suit, now this? Not that she didn't appreciate all that he was doing for her. Really, she adored it. But. . . "The answer is simple, little Slash. It is because you are different," he knelt down on the floor behind her, having finished the braid with a hair band. She blinked and turned as he put his muscular hands on her arms. She blinked as she gazed at him and the shirt he wore, one she'd never seen him wear before. The top right shoulder, the collar area, and the top half of the right side, including his sleeve, were a dark, burnt orange color. That area of color was ended in a diagonal line that acted as a barrier between it and the other half of the shirt, which was a deep charcoal gray color. The look was finished with black drawstring warm up pants, and black boots. "You are now three years old, little Slashera. Happy birthday," he murmured, and leaning up, kissed her gently on her forehead, eye closed. She blinked at him, as he pulled back. He smiled, "And now that you are three years old, how about we both get stronger today? Would you like that?"

Joy filled her. She enjoyed playing with the weights and things with Slade simply in the room, but to have him playing with her?! Oh wow! She grinned and threw her arms around his neck as he chuckled, wrapping his arms firmly around her tiny body, "I _would _like that! Very much!" she declared. _"I thought you would," _he murmured back.

Slashera eagerly made her way to the platform as she entered the training room with Slade. She was ready, excited, and full of adrenaline! "No, little Slash, we will not be playing in here today," he called suddenly. She blinked and frowned as she turned to him, as he stood just inside the doorway to the room. He smiled at her, "Come with me." And turning, moved over to the far left wall from her. She blinked and slowly followed him until they were both standing beside the large mirror wall. It was then that she saw it. The small ridge between the mirror before him and the one to its right. As she frowned at a small steel alcove in the material on that side halfway up the mirror pane, he reached forward and hooked his fingers inside said alcove before slowly pulling the door towards him, blinking. And to her amazement, it slid out a bit towards them. Turning his head to the left, he blinked, and pulled the newly formed door in that direction. She stared, as the mirror door slid over the one beside it, revealing an opening. Turning to the new doorway, he marched firmly into the darkness beyond. She frowned, and hurried after him. And gazed, at the narrow stairwell of metal steps tucked away here. Without a word, he began to climb said stairs. Knowing she should, she followed him.

It wasn't until two separate flights of stairs later that they arrived at their destination, a small platform just off of the stairwell. She blinked as she gazed at the large steel door with the handle bar before them, amazed once more that Slade had yet another surprise to show her. She gazed up at him, as he reached forward, gripped this handle in his hand, and turning it, pulled it back towards him, opening the room beyond, the two of them taking a step back. Once it was properly open, he marched in. Blinking, she followed, and as he slowly closed the door, gazed at the room beyond. There was a long orange track in the shape of an oval running the length of the room, leaving minimal space in the corners of the rectangular structure, the ground in the center of the track and on said edges covered in green carpet. In the left corner of the wall across from them was a small refrigerator. In the center of the room were four long ropes with metal rings on the ends hanging side by side from the ceiling, two large vertical poles with notches spaced equally between each other from five feet up, a long horizontal pole resting on the two notches on the tops of the poles with a single bright blue safety mat on the other side, and another set of three shorter poles in a similar arrangement. Like the room before, the walls of this room were likewise mirrors.

"Let's get going," Slade announced. Riveting her attention back to him. She watched as he marched over to the right corner beside the door they'd just entered through and picked up two pieces of black material from the floor. Turning to her, he marched over and revealed what they were. They appeared to be socks, but socks with specified areas sewn in for her toes and with pads on the bottoms, to protect her soles. "We will be running up here today. You'll need to put these on." She gazed up at him, blinking for a moment, and then smiled. Taking them, she eagerly sat down on the orange track, bringing her feet up, and tugged the socks on.

As she fiddled with the toe areas on the second one, he marched behind her, "Now that you've done that, let's prepare in another way. Spread your legs straight out, Little Slash. We haven't had to stretch like this before, but I don't want your muscles to be too sore on your birthday. And they may very well be if you don't stretch out before we stopped." She blinked and quickly made a V with her legs. "Good girl," he praised, "Now move your hands out straight in front of you and put them to be just above the floor. Palms facing down." She nodded, and put her hands, side by side, out before her. "Now, let's stretch your muscles," he declared, and leaning down, put his two large palms to the top of her back, and began to press down, pushing her forward. She grunted, but accepted the necessary pressure. Once she was like that for a few seconds, he released his pressure, and instructed her to fold her right leg back behind her. Without hesitation, she did so. And he pressed her forward again. Finally, they performed the same stretch with the other leg bent back. He smiled, "Let's begin."

Slashera quickly found out that she enjoyed running with Slade. She enjoyed the sound of her own feet slapping onto the track completely in rhythm with his own, with him just mere feet ahead of her. Grinning, sweat glistening on her body, she pressed onward. Slade smiled, the work out only equivalent to a lazy warm up for him, his muscular arms pumping smoothly back and forth as he monitored his pace, keeping his pace slow enough for Slashera. Soon, that would not be necessary. With his carefully planned and precise training methods, she'd be almost matching speed with him in no time. He knew this prior to today and therefore had already accepted the self-prescribed task of keeping his own speed to a minimum. What he hadn't known however was how she would immediately match his pace. He supposed it must be simply that their time together had in a way synchronized her to him, or synchronized him to her . . . he truly preferred to think the first theory rather than the latter. He was supposed to be changing _her, _and no matter how unimportant a person's pace was he did _not _want her changing _him_ in the slightest.

Once he knew they'd run around the track enough to be equivalent to a mile, Slade jogged off of it and over to the refrigerator with her following right behind him. She smiled despite the sweat coating her, "Father Slade, I'm having so much fun!" she said happily, as he opened the refrigerator door, "We're not done yet, are we?" He turned to her, and smiled, "Of course we're not done yet. . ." he held up the small bowl of various pieces of fruit, "I just figured we might need to eat something." He held up his other hand, with two cold half gallon jugs of orange juice in the fingers.

After eating half of the fruit bowl each and downing half of each of the jugs, the two waited patiently for thirty minutes before running again. Once they'd run five more miles, Slade announced that it was time to go back downstairs and get cleaned up. He realized he could have shown her how to do a pull up, or how to work with the rings as he'd had planned, but despite his normally rigid self-control he really couldn't wait to continue with the activities for the day. So after going down the stairwell to the first level, she led the way to the bathroom.

One bath, one shower, and one lunch prepared later found the two of them eating steak in the kitchen and mashed potatoes, both full of herbs and flavor. Slade was now sporting a white muscle shirt and a pair of light blue drawstring pants. She wore a dark blue muscle shirt of his, as her jumpsuit was in the wash. Once she was finishing up her food, he spoke up, "So, little Slash, are you having a happy birthday?" he murmured, already knowing the answer he'd receive. She smiled at him, and nodded, _"_I am! It's been great!" he smiled back at her, stood up, moved over to the refrigerator, opened it, and reached inside, "I'm glad to hear that. . ." he turned to her, pulling out something she hadn't seen in months . . . the dark colored devil's food cupcake sat firmly in its black wrapper, a swirled dollop of blue icing on top of it, with chocolate sprinkles on top of that. She stared at it as he slid it before her, and picked up their now empty plates before going to the sink with both of them. Opening a drawer nearby, he took out a white candle and some matches. He turned, and blinked at her, as she gazed back at him and moved forward, "It simply wouldn't be your birthday without a birthday treat, now would it?" he said simply. And stuck the candle firmly into the center of the swirl. Striking a match, he flawlessly lit said candle, before putting the flame on the tiny wooden stick quickly out. "Now Slashera, you're going to want to savor this treat. You are not to get it again until your next birthday. Understand?" he said firmly. She nodded, "Yes sir . . . may I ask a question?" He nodded, and locked his eye on hers, "Ask away." Turning, he went back to the drawer to put the match box away. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you not get a cupcake any other time of the year?" he asked, turning and leaning against the counter, blinking at her. She nodded, biting her lip, hands gripping the edges of the chair. He smiled softly at her, "Because I know you want to get stronger. And too many treats won't let you do that. Of course. . ." he grinned, "One cupcake a year can't hurt you. Does that answer your question, little Slash?" She smiled, and nodded. He smirked, "Good. Now. . ." he moved to stand behind her, and with his large hands pulled her hair back away from her face, holding it out of her way, "Blow the candle out and make a wish," he instructed. She smiled. _I wish that I'll be able to stay and have fun with Slade forever . . . _closing her onyx eyes tightly, she blew out as hard as she could at the candle, and before opening them. And smiled, at the smoke swirling up from the put out candle. Slade smiled, and sliding a white hair band off of his wrist, put her hair up in a rough little ponytail before leaning forward, and plucking the candle out of the cupcake, "Now, go ahead. Eat your cupcake." he said happily, moving over to the sink and waiting coffee pot. He himself didn't drink coffee very often. For one, too much caffeine _was _bad for a person, and secondly, he didn't really _need _an upper in his system in the morning. But he did enjoy straight black coffee with a hint of chervil in it. In no time, he had poured himself a cup, and after moving back to the table he sat down. If he wasn't so serious and determined to remain so, he would have laughed. . .

Slashera's short tongue was stuck out and running along the icing on top of the cupcake, licking it slowly before sliding back into the girl's mouth, taking the cap of the icing mountain into her mouth. Once that was swallowed, she studied the pastry for a moment before her lips closed around the rest of the icing on top of the pastry. In no time, she'd taken off the last of the icing, and was now sporting some blue lips . . . licking at them with her tongue, not moving her eyes away from the cupcake, she moved her other hand up, and slowly peeled back the cupcake wrapper, gazing at the thing for a moment before sinking her teeth into the moist cold material of the cupcake, a few crumbs falling. It was then that she felt him looking at her. Turning to him she blinked at him, chewed on the cake, and swallowed it, "Yes sir?" He smiled, "Is it good?" She smiled with her blue tinted teeth, "Yes sir." He chuckled, "I'm glad." And lifting his beige mug up, tilted the coffee into his mouth and down his throat, eye closed. As she took another bite of her small treat.

Once both were done with their respective treats and Slashera had made a run to the bathroom to get the last of the icing off of her lips, they headed off to the den, where Slade immediately moved to the couch. She had expected this. What she _didn't _expect, however, was what he said as she reached for the toy gun. "You're not playing with that, today, Slashera. I have a new book I want to read to you. Something special. For your birthday," he murmured softly. She blinked, turning to him, and then smiled, her hair back down now that her cupcake eating was over, "Where is it?" "It's on top of the bookshelf," he murmured, nodding towards the piece of furniture. She turned, grinned, and walked quickly over to it and took down the long thin black leather book with blood red writing from the top. Before turning and rushing back over to the couch.

Slade in no time had his legs propped up on the coffee table, and she was leaning on his side, his left arm draped around her, holding the book between his hands, her own arms around her knees which were drawn up beneath her. She blinked at the cover of the book as he read it out loud, _"THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME by Richard Connell," _he said in his deep, soothing voice, then smiled, "I think you'll like this story, Slashera. I know I do. . ." He opened it, and clearing his throat, began in a slightly lighter tone than he normally used, set at a quicker pace, _"_ 'Off there to the right-somewhere-is a large island,' Whitney said," he paused, then in that same tone, " 'It's. . . rather a mystery.'" He took on a confused tone, " 'What island is _that?'_ Rainsford asked. . ." once again he switched back to Whitney's tone, " 'The old charts call it. . . "Ship-Trapped Island". . .'" and so, Slade began to recite to her "The Most Dangerous Game", using the various tones of his voice to bring the story to life all the more for Slashera, to keep her entertained. As if he _had_ to put forth the extra effort. . .

"He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided. The End," Slade declared, slapping the book closed forty five minutes later. And turned to Slashera, who was frowning at the book. "Did you not enjoy it, little Slashera?" he asked. She turned to him, and blinked, "I . . . isn't it wrong? Killing someone? When you don't have to?" He frowned back at her, "What you have to understand is that the people _did _have a chance. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless. Look at Rainsford. He won against Zaroff. The others were killed because of their own ignorance. Their inability to match up with Zaroff's methods. Like the South and the North in the Civil War. Remember?" she frowned, and nodded, "I suppose so . . . but did Zaroff have to kill them?" "If he had not, he would not have kept his promises," Slade said matter-of-factly, "Now would he?" She frowned, "I guess not." "As for those killed, they simply weren't strong enough. If it were me or you, Slashera." he smiled, "I can assure you, Zaroff would have been the one losing the game." She smiled up at him, eyes shining with joy, "Really? You think so?!" he smiled, and nodded. Then, "Now, I have one more surprise for you today, Slashera. A very _important _surprise. But first, we must leave this room." He put the book down on the coffee table. And standing, turned to her as she stood as well. Blinking up at him.

Slashera frowned, as she followed him down the hallway just outside of his bedroom, and towards the room she'd first been in here. And felt herself tense, as the terrifying memory of the cage returned to her. What did this mean? What was the surprise? What . . . suddenly, Slade gripped the door handle, the door being of white wood, and pushed the door open the rest of the way. He moved into the room, "Now come, little Slashera." She bit her lip, and walked slowly through. The two gazed at the room.

Slade blinked. He'd had the room enlarged, and at the wall at the far end, were large heavy black curtains, which were between them and huge wall windows. Also in the room was a black painted wooden dress of drawers with three drawers, and a twin bed with gray sheets and a small bedside table at the head of it on the left side, the alarm clock from his room sitting on that. A fan light fixture of four light bulbs set at ninety degrees from one another hung in the center of the ceiling. Another white door up was set inside the beige walls in the left hand corner just down from the door and led to a bathroom. He turned to Slashera, who was gazing around, her bare feet on the metal floor, her eyes wide. Taking it all in slowly. Then she turned to him. "This is your new room, Slashera," he said softly.

She frowned, confusion setting in, as well as hurt. Her eyes welled up with tears. _"Wh-why?" _He frowned, instantly noting her discomfort, "Because as I said, you are different now, and therefore you are going to have a room of your very own." _"B-but I don't want a room," _she said in a fearful voice. He smiled softly down at her, and moving forward, knelt down, immediately taking her in his arms, and hugging her tightly, his single eye closing, "But I made it just for you. Because I knew that you were ready for it, Little Slash. Here . . . let's see how good it is. . ." standing, he moved around her to the curtains at the other end. She turned, biting her lip more, and watched as he grabbed a pole hanging from the top of the curtain at the far left end. He slowly pulled them back. She blinked, gazing at the windows. They revealed to her a small green yard with a large stone wall just on the other side, the entire yard full of an orange light from the sunset. Blinking, she slowly moved across the room to stand beside him, and gazed out. As he moved to the far right end, "Slashera." he murmured. She blinked, turned, and walked down to him, as he gripped a handle set in a metal plate in the glass pane at the end. Flipping a small latch, he turned the handle and pulled. And slowly, the door opened up towards them, turning on a tiny pair of hinges between it and the rest of the window wall. He turned, smiled at her, and walked on through. She hurried behind him.

The smell of fresh air, something she hadn't smelled in a year, flew into her nose as he turned to her, smiling, "Now isn't this nice?" he said, holding his hand up to everything in general. She frowned, crossing her hands behind her back, gazing at him. Still clearly unsettled by it all. He sighed, moved forward, knelt down, and gripped her arms, gazing at her, "Slashera, this has to be done. You're different now, remember? Besides. I'm right down the hall, right?" She sniffed, and nodded. It was then that he saw her wet cheeks, evidence of her silent weeping. "Oh, don't cry now," he muttered, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, "You have to be a big, strong girl now." She met his eye, _"You're . . . you're not leaving me?" _she whispered in a weak voice. He smiled, "How could I ever leave you, little Slashera? Didn't I tell you I'd never do that?" he wrapped his arms firmly around her, one hand behind her head, and pressed her to him. He closed his eye, "The only reason I worked on this room so hard was because I'm so proud of you," he murmured gently, his mouth beside her ear. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, holding him tightly, her own eyes shut.

He smiled, "Do you want to go get something to eat? It might make you feel better." She nodded. And he hooked his arms around her, picking her up with one palm underneath her while the other was wrapped around her back, and slowly entered the room once again, closing the window door behind him as he went. It'd been a while since he'd carried her like this, but he knew she needed the close proximity now to help her accept the situation. He moved over to the bathroom of the room, opened the door, walked on through, and set her down on the toilet seat. She blinked at the white room around her, as he took a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink, and wet it, then turned, kneeling down, and rubbed her face with it, the warm cloth making her feel a bit better. "Now, let's wash our hands, okay?" he asked in a soft, calming voice. She nodded, went over to the tiny sink, and washed her hands before wiping them on a towel provided. Turning, she followed him out, feeling slightly better about everything.

Slade walked into his room later that night after tucking her in, informing her to come to his room and wake him up the next morning when her alarm went off, and washing his face and brushing his teeth. He had just laid down in bed and closed his eye when his door creaked open. _"S-Slade?" _she whispered. He frowned, rolled over, and sat up, blinking at her, _"What is it?" _he muttered, blinking. She bit her lip, clearly nervous. And he knew his tone hadn't helped. He sighed and calmed down a bit, running a strong hand through his white hair, "What is it little Slashera?" he asked softly. It was hard sometimes to keep up the calming front with the child. Especially when she was the thing keeping him from something he wanted: sleep. She frowned, having been looking at the floor, and her eyes moved to him, "I. . . I can't sleep. Can . . . . Can I sleep in here with you? Just one more night?" He frowned. "No." he replied matter-of-factly, still not allowing his frustration to enter his voice. She felt tears begin to well up. "But I will go lay down with you until you're asleep," he murmured, and pulling back his covers, got up and walked over to her. Leaning down, he picked her up, and carried her down the hallway to her own room.

In no time, he was pulling the gray covers over her once more as he lay on top of the sheets beside her, curved a bit to accommodate the size of the bed. _"Thank you," _she whispered as her eyes fluttered closed. He smiled, and closed his eye, his right arm folded beneath his head, and his left arm flopped over her tiny form, _"Shhh. Now let's go to sleep, alright?" "Yes sir. I love you, Father Slade." "Sweet dreams, little Slash," _he murmured, kissing her lightly on the forehead before dozing off himself, despite his previous resolve to return to his own room after he got her to sleep. Heck, even perfection falters sometimes, especially when it can't make it two nights without sleep. Slade was no exception.

* * *

A/N: Happy Birthday little Slash! And for your birthday, you get to hear Slade read: _The Most Dangerous Game_? Actually, I personally really do love that story. Although. . . I never have heard someone reason about why Zaroff _had _to kill those men quite the way Slade did. I plan on getting it one day, so that I don't have to look for it online or in old textbooks. lol And she gets her own room. 0_o But maybe . . . her reaction was not the reaction Slade wanted? Oh well . . . at least he went to go get her to sleep. That was nice, right? Wait. Slade? Being _nice?_ Hmmm, interesting. . . maybe he should be worried about changing because of her. . . haha, well please review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Batman.**

**A/N: And here's Chapter 6! Enjoy! **

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Slashera ran down the long white hallway, her heartbeat in her ears, flinging open door after door in her frantic search. _"SLADE?! FATHER SLADE! SLADE, WHERE ARE YOU?!" _she cried, panic entering her. She'd already gone up to the upstairs gym, and had gone in nearly every room of the house but her own. And the absence of the man struck fear into her heart. Where was he?! Had he abandoned her?! He'd always said he wouldn't. What if . . . A door opened and closed behind her. Whipping around, she smiled, "FATHER SLADE I WAS WORRIED YOU WERE. . ." her breath hitched in her throat, and stared at the man exiting Slade's room, frowning hard at her. And while the presence of Bruce Wayne a year and a half ago might have meant joy to the child, now it filled her with a new fear. And the fact that her mother was standing behind the man didn't help any. These were the people who abandoned her. Who caused her so much pain. She took a step backwards, and Bruce and her mom walked towards her. _"Sl-Slade?" _she whispered in a high pitched voice full of worry and fear. They weren't supposed to be here! They never were supposed to be here! This was Slade's house! Slade's house with her! But . . . but where was Slade? She needed him! She needed him to protect her from these people! She let a tear race down her cheek. So where was he?

"Mary, please," Eleanor whispered, holding out her hand to the child, "Come with us." Slashera felt anger rise up in her, "MY NAME'S NOT MARY! IT'S SLASHERA NOW!" she yelled. _"Don't snap at your mother, Mary," _Bruce said in his clipped, cold tone. Come to think of it, he always used that tone with her. She turned to him, staring, as he continued, "_Now come on. Go to your mother, and let's get out of here. Enough nonsense." _She shook her head quickly, eyes shut tight, "SLADE! SLADE WHERE ARE YOU?" Now Bruce was mad, _"Slade's not here! Now come on!" _he took a firm step towards her, and eyes shooting open, Slashera panicked. Turning, she made to bolt for her room door. And screamed, as thousands upon thousands of hands seemed to be grabbing her at once on her arms and legs, and she screamed, flinging her head to and fro, as they began to engulf her.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" she screamed, twisting, unable to escape. "Come on now, Mary, please? Come with us?" Eleanor whispered in her ear. "NO! LET GO OF ME!" Slashera screeched. "LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!" Bruce snapped. "NO! SLADE! SLADE HELP ME! SLADE!" she shut her eyes tight, _"Slade please . . . please . . . don't let them take me away. . ." _she sobbed. And suddenly, the hands retreated, as if burned. She shot her eyes open, and stared ahead of her. It was too bright to see much of anything, but what she did see was enough . . . the large hand reaching down towards her. As she continued to stare, Slade seemed to form before her, his blue eye looking calmly down at her, "Come now, Little Slash. They're all gone," he said with a smile. She trembled for another second, and then flung herself up at him. The man easily caught her and pulled her into a tight hug, a hand cradling her head, rocking her back and forth, his single eye closed. "_Sl-Slade. . ." _she sobbed hard into his shoulder, _"I . . . I thought you'd left me. . ." _"Of course I didn't. I told you I never would. Remember?" he whispered back. "_I . . . I thought that they were going to take me away," _she whimpered, hugging his neck tightly, sobbing more. "Shhh, Little Slash, shhh. . ." he murmured, rubbing her spine with one hand, "I'll never let them take you away. I'll never let anyone take you from me. Ever. Okay?" Slashera nodded, "_Th-thank you, Father Slade," _she whispered. "You're welcome, Little Slashera. Now get some sleep. . ." he murmured.

Slade's crystal blue eye watched the girl as she finally stilled on the bed, as he leaned towards the monitor screen, his hands folded before his mouth, his elbows resting on his knees, his body illuminated by the eerie blue light displayed by the many monitors in the small room. Since he no longer slept with her and only needed approximately an hour of sleep each night if he stayed on schedule with his sleep patterns, the man had taken to watching the girl as she slept. He understood well that she couldn't do much to harm her training as she slept, but Slade was a perfectionist at heart, and he wouldn't let _anything_ go wrong here . . . sitting back in the rather large leather swivel computer chair, he rested his heavy arms on the arm rests and gazed around the small room. The walls in front of him, to his right and to his left, were full of different computer screen monitors, all set in metal plates. There were one hundred and fifty of said monitors, to be exact. Because of them, he was able to keep each room within the warehouse under constant surveillance with at least one monitor per room. Speakers below each monitor that were set in the metal plates allowed for him to hear what was going on in each room if he chose to do so. His eye watched as a few of the robot androids, or as he called them, "Slade-bots", cleaned some of his clothes, checked up on the training equipment, and restocked the refrigerator and cabinets like they did every third Saturday of the month. Just a few things to maintain the warehouse they resided in. Not needing too much sleep himself, Slade could very well do all the things they did during the night time hours himself. But why bother when you could build a robot to do such things? Of course, Slashera knew nothing about them, and Slade planned to keep it that way for now. She'd have to find out eventually, but seeing as the bots' artificial intelligence only allowed for such menial tasks that didn't directly affect her training, introductions could wait.

Turning to the control panel that jutted out from the wall just below the screens directly in front of him, he gazed at all the various buttons, levers, and keyboards that controlled everything within the building. They controlled every room's temperature, and even the light intensity in each room. They controlled the air flow in each room, and each room's air content. And by doing so, they allowed Slade to control _everything _and _anything _he wanted to control here. Touching a rather large red button off to the right, he looked up, and watched as a monitor for his own bedroom changed directly to a computer screen, a background of Gettysburg as the background for the desktop. He smirked. _And as if all the other things weren't good enough, I even have my own Internet connection here too._ He chuckled at the joke only he would hear and moving a mouse found beside the red button, he opened up his e-mail, and looking down at the keyboard directly in front of him, he began to type. Once he was done, he gazed up at the screen, reading over the message he'd prepared.

WW,

The art exhibit here is coming together quite nicely. However, we would appreciate it if the intellectual art piece could be shipped as soon as possible to aid in the exhibit's completion. As well as the sculpture that the staff favors so much. I personally look forward to its arrival.

-SW

After reading the entire message over once more, Slade smiled and clicked the "Send" button before closing out of the window and looking at the digital clock on the wall. 5:30 AM. . .

The man instantly stood from his chair after checking the monitors quickly and making sure that all of the Slade-bots had gone back to their storage room. Smiling upon realizing they had, he left the room, eye flitting to the two sizeable bookcases on either side of the door full to burst with Child Psychology books. As he exited, he listened as the electronic door slid into place with a _click! _behind him. It was a flat, white painted door with no handles that perfectly hid inside the wall and would only open at Slade's touch. Slade marched down the hallway, the hidden door to the monitor room just across from the kitchen and between the living room and Slashera's room on the left side of the hallway, with only the bathroom on the hallway's left side between the living room and his own. Ruffling his hair up a bit with one hand as he marched into his bedroom, Slade mentally prepared for the day as he went over everything they would do in his mind. Sliding into bed, he messed the sheets up a bit so that it would appear he'd slept all night before he laid down, not even needing monitors to know that at 5:55, Slashera would walk in to wake him all dressed in her jumpsuit and excited to start the new day.

Forty minutes later, Slade's black booted feet pounded on the track of the upstairs gym, as he stretched them out as he ran, yet still controlling his speed. The silver shirt he wore clung to his frame, as did his darker gray warm up pants. Blinking, the man's eye flitted to the mirror walls surrounding the track. He grimaced at the girl running behind him and trying hard to keep up, her legs still bunched up under her. Despite them running every day for the past six months, Slashera still didn't feel confident with stretching her legs out whenever she ran. Slade understood that that was only natural, seeing as how young the girl was. Some people never stretched their legs too far when they ran even after twenty years of training. That was why Slade hadn't remedied the problem yet. But he required her to be a perfect apprentice to him, and therefore the man had decided to remedy the problem before it became to terribly a habit. He'd allotted six months because of her age in order to see if she corrected the problem by involuntarily conforming to the way he ran. But now it was time for him to fix what she could not. Besides, when one stretched their legs out, they could gain more ground with less strides.

He gritted his teeth and upped his speed while still keeping an eye on the girl behind him. A look of confusion mixed with fear passed over her features, and gritting her teeth, she attempted to keep up with him by quickening her pace, sadly continuing to keep her legs up beneath her. He upped his speed more, and began to move quickly away from her, "Keep up, Slashera. You can do it," he said gently. She bit her lip, and her feet pounded faster on the track. Her legs were on fire! But they were still not producing the desired result. She whimpered as he continued to run farther away from her. "Try stretching your legs out," he called, a good quarter of the track ahead of her. She bit her lip. She didn't want to fall . . . not with Slade so far away. Didn't he understand that? "Slashera, you'll be fine," he assured her, "You're strong. You won't fall." Closing her eyes, sweat covering her, Slashera took a deep breath and began to move her legs out in front of her.

Slade smiled and slowed a bit, to be able to come back to her, "Good girl, Little Slash," he murmured. She opened her eyes and blinked at him as he was closer to her now, and looked down while keeping up her pace. And stared as her black legs stretched out before her. She was a bit lower to the ground, but that could be expected. With her legs out in front of her, they weren't adding to her height as much . . . she turned back and looked up at him. And saw the smile on his face, "I'm proud of you," he murmured, "You're very brave." She beamed at him, and they continued to run, her only eight paces behind him the rest of the time. She'd done it! And what's more, Slade was proud of her because of it!

"Here," he handed her a strawberry smoothie, loaded with a special mix of all the essential electrolytes, vitamins, protein, calcium, and supplements she would need, the red and white straw sticking high out of it. She took it from him, cross legged on the floor before him, and closed her eyes as she began to drink. He sat down as well and began to sip on his own, his being exactly the same without the straw. Slade drank slowly, careful to make sure none of it got on his mustache. He hated how stupid he looked when that happened . . . sometimes when he had been younger, he'd thought of shaving.

Nonetheless, he kept his facial hair as it was, with his goatee and mustache connected by the two lines of white hair going down the sides of his mouth. Various people in the past had commented that he looked like a buff Santa. And it was a miracle those very same people didn't have their necks snapped. He blinked, holding the glass he had in one hand, watching as Slashera had her head ducked down, gazing at her own drink with her two small but muscular hands holding her glass tightly on the sides, sucking hungrily on the straw. But not slurping. The first time she'd done that, he'd asked her not to anymore. He'd told her that slurping was bad. But most of all, he'd told her that he didn't like slurping. She'd gone pale, and had worked on not slurping at all from that point forth. So she drank her breakfast shake quietly, concentrating on not making a sound.

He smiled as she lifted her head away, with only a little less than a quarter of the glass to go. Feeling the small amount on her lips, she whisked her tongue out and licked at it, the strawberry flavored smoothie clearly her favorite among all the smoothies he'd made for her. Holding down a chuckle, he turned to the small refrigerator behind him, already finished with his own smoothie. Reaching up on top of the appliance, Slade felt around until his hand found what it was looking for. Slashera blinked, the straw back in her mouth, finishing her glass, and watching as he brought the two home-made granola bars in a Ziploc bag down. Then he turned to her. Setting the bag down on the floor, he took her cup from her and set both of their cups up on top of the refrigerator. He opened the bag and handed one granola bar to her. "Here we are," he said softly She smiled and took hers, and in perfect unison the two took a bite. She grinned. They were peanut butter today. Out of all the granola bars she'd had, this kind was her favorite! In a few more bites Slade was done and she was finishing hers off. Smiling at her, he stood, clapping his knees, before reaching down with one hand as he pulled her back up, "Alright, Little Slash, let's go to the pull up bar!" he said happily. She grinned up at him, "Okay Father Slade!" and bounded after the man already halfway to the bars.

"498 . . .499 . . . 500," he breathed, his legs curled up behind him so as to not touch the floor as he gazed up at the white ceiling. He paused, before extending his legs and stood beneath the bar, crouch in order to accommodate his height underneath the lower bar. He turned to Slashera. He'd done 500 pull ups twice. And now that her stomach was settled she could do hers. "Ready?" he asked while already knowing the answer. She grinned and nodded, "YES SIR!" and reached up for him with her arms as she was too short to get up to the bar. Smiling, he squatted and put his hands firmly on the sides of her jump suit underneath her arms but just above her waist, "Alright, here we go," he said, and backing up a bit on the tips of his toes and balls of his feet, lifted up slightly and held her up to the bars, "Okay Slashera, grab on." She nodded, and twisting her wrists around, gripped the bars firmly with her palms facing her face. Immediately, she curled her legs back, just as he did. He loosened his grip slightly, but kept his hands only centimeters form her body, not about to let her fall on the unpadded floor. Not from this height. "Good girl. Alright . . . begin. . ." he muttered. She nodded, and gritting her teeth, hoisted her chin up over the bar, then moved down slowly. "1 . . . okay, Slashera, 999 to go . . . 2," he smiled, "Good girl. Keep going." She grinned and continued.

Once they were done with the bars, Slade had her drink half a gallon of water. Immediately afterwards, Slashera found herself in between two rings hanging low from the ceiling with a mat beneath her this time, and Slade in between two rings hanging low from the ceiling beside her. Gripping the rings in his two hands, palms facing the floor and arms in between the cables holding the rings up, he gritted his teeth, and hoisted his body up into the air, spreading his arms apart a bit, using his pressure on the cables to be about a foot above the ground. Nodding at his wordless command, she gritted her own teeth and followed suit. Her muscles shook but she remained in the air. "Good, now try this. . ." he murmured, and in another move, moved his legs to be flat out and in a sitting position before him, a perfect ninety degree angle with the rest of his body as the man frowned hard at the tips of his boots. Turning to her, he waited expectantly. She frowned at him, her sweat glistening on her. Turning, she concentrated hard at the air before her and grunted. With shaking, trembling legs, she slowly moved them forward about 45 degrees. She gasped, the pain intense in her abdomen. She wasn't used to this. Nonetheless, she tried to add more height to her legs. Then it happened. Her left palm slipped and she went flying to the floor, screaming in surprise and fear, arms flailing as she tried to grab hold of something! Anything!

Slashera blinked, breathing hard, gazing ahead of herself, the large arms wrapped firmly around her. "You're alright," Slade's voice whispered in her ear, "You just slipped. That's all. I've got you, Slashera," he assured her gently, "I've got you . . . I'm here . . ." he rubbed her hair with one hand, the girl shaking in his arms, "Shhh, now, shhh, calm down. . . That's my girl, yeah. . . See? You're shaking even less now. It's going to be alright." The man was kneeling on the floor with her firmly in his arms, one knee, his left knee, bent to help prop her up. She blinked. She hadn't even noticed she'd been shaking. Slade frowned down at her, as she stared ahead of herself, her face pale. He himself was still trying to come to terms with what just happened.

He had put the mat there in case Slashera would fall. He knew he'd be in between the rings beside her, and so he hadn't wanted to feel that if she fell here, he'd absolutely have to catch her. That the mats would suffice. And he had known that they would. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. But when he'd heard her scream, something in him had snapped. He'd let go of his rings immediately and dove down to grab her before she so much as _touched _the floor beneath her, moving quicker than the human eye could see. He was snapped out of his thoughts by her arms reaching around his neck, hugging him close, as she pressed her face to his chest, breathing hard, his heartbeat calming her down even more, _"I'm sorry, Slade. I wasn't able to lift my legs up that high. . ." _she whispered. He blinked. That single phrase had brought him back down to the moment at hand. It had reminded him that he didn't have time to question his moves.

"It's alright," he murmured, rubbing her arms "comfortingly" while really checking for any irregular tears or swelling in case she pulled something on the way down. "That was your first try. You'll get it right next time. In fact, we're going to try again, right now," he said calmly. He moved her into a standing position and stood up himself, his one crystal eye on her face as she gazed up at him. Turning, he walked firmly over to the refrigerator. Opening it, he pulled out a cool, dry towel he kept there. Turning to her he walked back over, and quickly ran it over her palms and wrists, drying her off. Next he turned to the rings and wiped them off as well. "Ready?" he asked, turning and blinking down at her. She nodded, biting her lip, "Yes sir." And they began again.

Once Slashera managed the ninety degree angle leg lift, Slade and her walked downstairs to clean up a bit, and after the two ate some herb, onion, and mushroom blasted chicken fettuccine alfredo they headed back to the downstairs gym. Slade had started to switch up what they did once she'd been introduced to the second gym of the warehouse. On some days, they would go upstairs, work out, come down, eat lunch, bathe, and then he'd read to her. A slight variation on what they used to do due to the fact that they were performing different exercises in a different setting. That was what they did every other day. As for the remaining days, they would work out in the morning, eat lunch, and then work out on the lower level gym in the afternoon. Despite the slight discomfort Slashera had felt towards the lack of reading time he spent with her at the beginning of such changes, she hadn't questioned him, and rather had quickly adapted to the change. So Slade watched as she did the 1,000 step ups while holding two ten pound bench press disks in her hands, lifted up a fifteen pound bench press disk from the floor 300 times, did 1,000 push-ups, and 300 lunges with the two ten pound weights in her hands again, keeping her appropriately hydrated the entire time as he allowed her training to take up his thoughts. Once she was finished, the two went to the kitchen and he set about cooking dinner, with salads full of vegetables topped with steak, with fruit for dessert.

Slade blinked at her, grinding the steak slice from the salad he'd made for himself between his teeth, the Thousand Island dressing adding even more flavor to his normally flavorful food, the man sitting across the table from her. Now that his mind wasn't focused on her training, it flitted back to that morning. _I'm not always gonna be able to pick her up when she falls. She's going to have to pick herself up a million times! And that'll be just in regards to my training. When she starts working for me, who knows how many times. . . I know this. . . I DO! So why did I act that way, dammit?! She's only my apprentice! Only my. . . I'm only keeping up the father act to gain her trust and build loyalty! Only to build her up! So why did I. . . _She looked up at him with her black eyes at that moment, grinding some lettuce in her teeth, blinking. And gulping it down, reached for her milk and drank deeply. Before, "I love you, Father Slade," she said. He smiled, despite the raging confusion he felt inside. And leaning forward, ruffled her bangs, "Finish eating so that you can have a bath and go to sleep, little Slash. You've worked hard today, and it shows. I'm very proud of you," he said, smiling even more at her. She beamed at him, and continued to eat. He blinked, moving his arm away, and fell back into his thoughts once more. _Has she changed me? _

The rest of the night, Slade was in a daze. Of course, he continued to prepare her for bed. He bathed her, gave her a white shirt to wear to bed, took a shower himself, and hugged her tight when she kissed him goodnight. It was on the cheek, of course, and once he pulled away, he pulled the covers up to her chin and watched as she snuggled deeper beneath them, her eyes closing automatically. Turning, he moved silently from the room, and the lights inside clicked off. Inside, it seemed he'd frozen up. Had he lost sight of his goal? Gotten caught up in being in the company of another? Had this girl . . . changed him? Without truly knowing where he was going, he entered the monitor room out of pure habit, and sat before the middle screen that doubled as his computer. And blinked, seeing he had a new message. The man clicked it, opening it. He let his crystal blue eye flit over the message.

SW,

Glad to hear that everything's falling into place there. As you, our most profitable collector, know, we do not like to disappoint, and as soon as the intellectual piece is finished, it will be sent immediately. As for the sculpture, please understand that it is an intricate piece, and therefore may take some time. However, rest assured that it will no doubt be a valuable piece of your exhibit, and well worth the wait. I cannot wait to see the finished exhibit. I have seen your work enough to know that something that is a product of your handiwork and careful planning is sure to be impressive.

-WW

_Will it? Will it really? Or have I let my own emotions, my own BEING, mess it up? Have I been so focused on controlling everything else, that I have been negligent in controlling myself? The vital part to this entire plan? _He turned around, and gazed with a tired eye at the Child Psychology books. He'd studied them all, memorized them, even, cover to cover. And yet, somehow, he had jeopardized his plan. He couldn't allow himself to turn soft . . . Couldn't become too emotionally attached. . . Couldn't lose control of himself as he had today. . . _That was simply a one-time thing. I'll make sure of it_. He thought with a hard frown, and turned, frowning at the monitors, his eye moving to the girl's room, watching as she slept. _I can't lose my cool over this. I have a task at hand, a goal to reach. And I WILL. NOT. MESS. THIS. UP. _He smirked. And moving his hands over the keyboard, continued to type.

WW,

Believe me, you will be the FIRST to see the exhibit when it is ready. I am sure it will exceed EVERYONE'S expectations.

-SW

Yawning slightly, the storm within him finally at rest, he leaned back, put his head back over the top of the chair, and fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, nightmares and Slade beginning to worry about Slashera changing his personality. This chapter had both! Now, here's my fun little question. Does anyone have any idea who WW is? ;) And did you all like the Chapter?**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, or Batman.

A/N: Okay, so today I promise the story is going to go to a place quite different from the warehouse! Where? Read and find out! Oh, and Enjoy! ;)

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The cricket's wings ground together in the dark forest as the creature sat perched on the stem of a leaf it'd found. The songbird of the night let its chirping tune float out into the air, only accompanied by the rushing water of the creek that ran beside it. The water itself had a surreal illumination to it as the full moon up above cast upon it a silvery glow. The cricket decided it had chosen a perfect perch in the lush undergrowth of that part of the forest, that it had found the best leaf of the finest oak tree. . . until it felt the light breeze in the air, signaling that it was time to dive for cover. . . the cricket leapt off of its leaf, clearly disgruntled, and the chilly summer night's breeze in no time had torn said leaf from its life giving branch, so that the green particle flew down to land on the stream's surface. The cricket watched with its many lensed eyes as its former stage traveled along with the current and out of sight.

The leaf continued on down and past yet another oak tree, one just as fine as the cricket's "perfect" one. From a burrow deep within a tree beside the oak came a small mouse, its little nose twitching in the air, gazing with its beady little black eyes at the succulent red berries growing at the foot of the oak via a large bush there. Glancing around the mouse ran a brief sweep for predators before allowing its small hands and feet to tap the forest's dirt floor as it rushed over to the berries, ready for a late night meal. As the mouse grew deeper and deeper into the branches of the bush while it satisfied its hunger, two large golden eyes watched from up above, as the large owl watched the foolish creature eat from the bush of its tree. As he watched the creature which, since danger had not presented itself initially, grew deeper and deeper within the confines of the bush the owl couldn't help but feel a certain pride. After all, _ he _had found this exact tree years previous, and despite the bush being a small sprout then, had known a great opportunity when he saw one. . . he waited a bit longer for the mouse to eat. . . with a screech, he dove down to the creature, beak stretched out, talons stretching as well.

In a panic the mouse turned and shot for its hole, only to find that it was hopelessly entangled within five branches. As it struggled frantically to break free the owl dove down into the bush, moving its talons down and head up as it broke into the undergrowth. Its eyes filled with pride as he heard the mouse's final squeak, before its deadly talons wrapped themselves firmly about the creature's body. The creature loved the crunching of the bone tight within its grip and the oozing of the blood over its scales as the creature's life source was spilled out. The bird of prey only had a moment to revel in its victory when it heard the pounding of footsteps. And instantly knew: _a larger animal was coming at a great speed . . ._ with a disgruntled hoot signifying that the intruder had interrupted a _very _good victory ceremony, the owl dove back up and into its hole in the tree, glaring as the large black combat boot rained down on and instantly crushed _its_ bush.

The cool night air whipped at Slade's hot, sweaty chest as the man's bulging arms pumped. He blinked, gazing ahead of himself, as he tore through the forest, the rhythmic sound of his legs the only thing he heard. He blinked at the fallen tree in his path, and easily leapt over it without even pausing to break stride. He'd traveled this path through the woods many a time before, and by now had formed a decent trail here along the stream. Slowing down ever so slightly, the white haired man paused beside a small opening in the trees lining the stream, where a rather large rock overlooked the rushing water below, and walked over. Putting one boot firmly atop the rock, he leaned down, scooped up some water with his large right hand, and brought it to his mouth. Oh how he loved the stream's water! It certainly tasted differently from purified water, and many would abhor the idea of drinking from it. To him, it tasted of nature. Of the outside world. Of freedom. His eye closed as he gulped down the rather large handful of liquid, and some streams of water trickled down the sides of his face and ran down his bare chest to end at the waistband of his black warm up pants. Opening his eye Slade turned to the stream, and reaching out his hand the man cupped some more, and drank deeply yet again. It had been a while since he'd taken one of his nightly runs out here. Ever since he'd gotten Slashera, he'd secluded the two of them to the warehouse, where he could control her environment and therefore completely control her training. In fact, he normally would be watching over her right now . . . if he hadn't needed to clear his head. He sighed and took in a deep breath of the cool night air.

After the fifth drink, the man moved away from the stream and continued to run through the forest, once again checking the watch on his wrist for the time and for any incoming messages from his robots. One with advanced artificial intelligence was monitoring Slashera and if anything should happen to the child or with the child, it was to contact Slade immediately. The man smiled, having no messages. So far, so good. But back to the matter at hand.

Slade simply could not stop thinking about the next day! And despite his attempts to hold in his excitement . . . what man, no matter how _perfect _they were, would be able to? He smirked, as he exited the forest and gazed across the large rolling hills at his rather large warehouse. He watched as the sun just started to peak out from behind the overcast clouds of night. _It's time,_ he thought, smirked, and bolted straight for the warehouse, running full tilt, a stallion able to truly be free.

After a quick shower, Slade stood in his own jumpsuit beside Slashera's bed, blinking down at her as she slept. The girl was turned on her side, facing him, wearing his orange and gray muscle shirt, her fists curled up near her face, sleeping soundly. He glanced at her alarm clock. It wouldn't go off for another forty five minutes. But that was alright. He'd had her go to sleep an hour earlier the night before . . . she had received plenty. And he wanted to get started. Leaning forward, he smiled, and brushed her bangs away from her forehead, _"Wake up, Little Slash. It's time to get up." _he murmured, resting his hand on her forehead for a moment. Sensing the pressure and vaguely hearing him speak, Slashera was pulled out of her dreamless sleep to gaze with large black eyes up at him. He smiled calmly down at her as she blinked up at him, "Good Morning, Little Slashera." She smiled back, "Good Morning, Father Slade." She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was then that she really looked at him, wearing a large black jumpsuit nearly identical to hers except it had pockets like the ones found on cargo pants, at various areas on the legs and chest and a black belt with two pockets on its front. She blinked up at him, and he smiled at her, "Happy Birthday Little Slash. Are you ready to get started for today?" Pushing aside his odd new wardrobe, Slashera grinned up at him and nodded before bounding out of bed. Once she had found her jumpsuit at the foot of her bed, the girl immediately got dressed.

The second surprise for the morning came when he handed her the black and white Sketchers. She frowned, slowly taking the shoes, one with black laces, the other with white laces, and turned them over in her hands before gazing up at him questioningly. He smiled, and instantly pulled out from his belt a pair of black socks, which he instantly took apart, "You need shoes for today. So I'm giving you those. To keep. Alright?" she smiled and nodded. He smirked, "Good. Now, sit on the bed and I'll help you get them on. _This time._ So pay attention. Understand?" she nodded quickly, and sat. Taking her right ankle, he instantly tugged on a sock, and grabbed the right shoe, the one with the black laces. "The way you know which shoe is which is by the laces on them. See this?" he held up the shoe for her to see, "This goes on your _right _foot. Because it has black laces on it. Now . . . you slip it on over the sock . . ." he blinked, and tugged it on, then turned to her, "And now you tighten and tie up the laces. Now watch how I do it, Little Slashera." She nodded, and watched as he pulled hard on the laces before he began to tie the shoe slowly. So that she could see precisely what to do. At the end, he made it a double knot and turning to her, nodded at the remaining sock and shoe, the sock now inside the left shoe, "Your turn."

After a failed attempt, she was finally wearing both shoes. Smiling, he led her to the bathroom and put her hair back in a quick braid before running to the kitchen and grabbing some granola bars with cranberries, raisins, dried fruit, peanut butter, and oats in them. These were by far not her favorites, but as he grabbed a gallon jug of water, Slade knew that this would provide her with a ton of nutrients. Besides, he also had put some of the things he put in the smoothies, like the extra vitamin mixes, calcium, and protein, inside the mix that would become the granola bars. They alone would give Slashera what she needed. At least until he could get her something more filling.

After Slade had her eat all three bars and drink a little bit of the water before drinking deeply himself, he instructed her to follow him. Slashera automatically expected for them to go play upstairs. So when he led her past the door to the bottom gym and down a hallway she'd never noticed before, she began to get worried. They were walking along a long steel hallway, the walls, floor, and ceiling completely bare, their feet making resounding clangs as they walked. Glancing at the walls about him and via their reflection noting her growing discomfort at the sudden unfamiliarity in surroundings, he smiled and moved his eye back to ahead of himself, "Slashera, do you remember what we did on your last birthday?" "Yes, Father Slade. You showed me the new playroom! And gave me a cupcake! And gave me my new room. . ." her voice faltered a bit, remembering the fear she'd felt that day, at the thought that he was abandoning her. "Let us not forget you got your new jumpsuit," he reminded her softly. She blushed, but nodded, "Right! Thank you!" "And what have you received today, Little Slash?" She paused, "Shoes. . ." "And now I'm going to take you to a special place. A place I haven't been to in a while, a place you've never been. It's one of my favorite places in the world, and I want you to see it. All because of your birthday." She smiled, "Then I want to see it too!" "I'm glad," he chuckled, "But first, we have to get outside. That's why we're walking down this hallway. To get outside. Okay?" "Alright, Father Slade," she said, and began to jog a bit, to stand beside him. She smiled up at him and he turned his head, smiling right back. Then she did something he hadn't been expecting . . . slowly, her tiny yet muscular hand slid into his much larger one, and her fingers closed around as much of him as they could. She smiled up at him, flashing him her pearly whites, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Hardly able to feel it, Slade smirked nonetheless and curled his large fingers around hers, giving them a much larger squeeze. She let out an excited giggle. He chuckled in response and turned, continuing to walk while allowing her to hold his hand.

Slashera blinked around her as they entered the small enclosed space between the warehouse and the tall steel wall surrounding it. Slade dropped her hand, announcing that they may have to run a bit to get to where they were going, and that they needed to stretch before doing so. In no time he was behind her, pushing her down, slowly stretching her little body out as she held her hands straight out in front of her. After that, the two stood straight, and bending each leg back in turn, stretched out their hamstrings as well, her placing a hand on him to help keep her balanced on one foot, him not truly needing to stretch. Finally they were ready to go, and after having her drink another bit of water, he turned and gulped down a few mouthfuls. With that, he marched down the small dirt path between the front door to the warehouse and the wall before them. As they were about to leave, he turned and gazed up at the large warehouse and she blinked at him. He took in the giant building, knowing he wouldn't see it again in a while. Of course, nothing bothered him about it. They had satellites on top to jam any electronic devices' unwanted signals in and out of the area at all times. _Not to mention the place will be guarded by about 1,000 Slade-bots while I'm gone, each fully capable of defending the area thanks to that "intellectual art piece" my gracious benefactor sent for my exhibition. _He smirked. Everything would be fine. He'd made sure that he wouldn't have anything to worry about. He turned and smiled at Slashera. _Because I have something important to do on my own. One that will take all my time and concentration. _"Ready?" he asked, already knowing the answer. She smiled, nodded, and he turned, planting his feet firmly in the center of the path. A sensor that only he could see due to his acute eyesight shot out from a tiny hole at the top of the wall, analyzing him quickly. . . slowly, with grating sounds, the portion of the wall before them slid backwards, separated into two doors via a ridge between them, and slid out on the outside of the wall. And for the first time in about two years, Slashera saw an unhindered look at the outside world. Slade smiled at the fields about them, a light morning mist over them, the sun not yet fully in the sky. . . "Well, let's go!" he said happily. He turned to the right, and shot across the dirt road and into the grass, the water sloshing around in its jug in his hand.

Slashera stared at him, having jumped when he had shouted. Watching as he ran away. _"S-Slade?" _she whispered, lips shaking along with the rest of her body. He'd _never _acted like that before . . . at least he usually gave her some warning . . . he turned and jogged in place, his hands up in fists, smiling at her, the dew from the mist resting on his brow, eye alight with excitement (A/N: hey, when you're mostly in a warehouse for two years, you get excited when you're in the great outdoors . . . even if you're Mr. Perfect). "WELL COME ON!" he said, grinning and motioning towards him, "COME ON LITTLE SLASH! LET'S RUN!" he said happily. She blinked, frowning, then. . .

"WOOH! THERE WE GO!" he laughed, as her tiny black body shot straight past him, her arms and legs pumping like mad, head ducked down, black hair lashing out in the wind she was creating, and turning on his heel, he easily caught up with her. "Now, calm down and pace yourself, Slashera. We have a ways to go. . ." she blinked, frowning, and turned her head to him, as he began to slow down. As he did so, she began to, too. He smiled at her, and took a deep breath, eye closing for a moment, and let it out, "Smell that fresh morning air, little Slash. Doesn't it feel great?" she blinked, frowned, tilted her own head back, closed her eyes, and took a deep sniff. The cool fresh air shot down into her lungs to feel her caverns. He was right. It _did _feel good. Like cool water flowing down her throat after playing. She smiled, "Yes Father Slade, it does." He smiled, and the two continued up and down hills, jogging out into the morning air, enjoying the outside world which sharply contrasted the home of windows, doors, and steel they'd just exited from.

About an hour later, twigs broke under their feet as they jogged alongside the creek, her breathing a bit harder behind him yet still able to turn her head and gaze in wonder at the forest. There was an American Robin on one tree singing to another one across the trail, and blue birds were flitting in and out of a large bush nearby. She caught sight of a squirrel leaping from tree branch to tree branch up above. Jerking her head down, she stared as a small brown rabbit bounded past and into its burrow. Just as a doe and her baby deer became visible not too far off running through the woods as well. Slashera had never seen so much wildlife at once in her life! Everything was alive and moving around! And her and Slade were right in the middle of it! She grinned. This was probably the best birthday ever!

Slade smiled, glancing back at her, watching as the girl thoroughly enjoyed the great outdoors. This was precisely the reaction he'd been expecting. In the city and later his warehouse, the child had never gone out into the woods or to a field. Even after many times outside, he still got energized and excited while he was running out in the midst of so much energy. This was far better in Slade's opinion than being cooped up in a warehouse all the time, even if the latter _was _necessary. It was then that the man caught a glimpse of the fallen tree he'd jumped earlier that morning. Smirking, he rushed it. _Time to see if that makeshift pole jumping we've been practicing has paid off . . . _For months now, they'd worked at a low height on the pole jump area of the second training room. It was still a bit small to use a second pole to launch oneself up into the air, but they were mostly practicing her calf muscle strength by doing such a thing.

Slade smiled as the tree got closer and closer as he constantly upped his speed until. . . His calf muscles ground together as he pressed far into the ground, pushing himself up and into the air. He smiled as his front leg, his right one, arched beautifully ahead of him as he sailed over the obstacle, his knee right before his body. As he went over, he pulled his trailing left leg up and bent beneath him as he tilted slightly, extending his right leg out to be just slightly bent, bringing the left leg down beside it as he touched down, clearing the jump with feet to spare. _"AND A FANTASTIC LEAP BY WILSON! I TELL YA FOLKS, HE'LL BE SURE TO BRING HOME THE GOLD!" _He smirked. _And the audience erupts in fanatical applause at the 2012 Olympics in London, England*. _With that thought, he loped proudly a few yards, head held high then turned, blinking, when he didn't hear Slashera behind him.

The girl stared at him, a petrified look on her face, on the other side of the tree. He stopped, blinking, "Well come on, Little Slash. Let's go. Like I said, we still have farther to go. . ." She shook her head, eyes wide, and took a step back, "I can't." He frowned, "The pole at home isn't any taller. Of course you can make it. Just jump it like you would there." She let tears fill her eyes. She didn't want to go against him, but, "I can't." she took another step back. He frowned and crossed his arms. Getting perturbed, "And why is that?" he said, clearly annoyed. She winced at his tone and gazed at the ground before mumbling something, rubbing the toe of her sneaker in the dirt. "I can't hear you. Speak up!" he said impatiently, tapping his boot. She jumped at his snap and slowly met his eye and whispered something. "I still can't hear you, Slashera." he said testily. She gulped, then, "It's TOO BIG!" she screeched

There was a silence for a long moment then, "But you'll be jumping it, not climbing over it. That shouldn't matter," he reasoned. She bit her lip, and her eyes fell on the forest floor. He blinked, then sighed and walked over to the log, though not going over it, "Come here," he whispered. She walked slowly over. And he put his hands on her shoulders, smiling gently at her. Forcing himself to remain calm. She gazed tearfully into his eye. _"I . . . I don't want to make you mad. . . I want to jump over it . . . but . . . but Father Slade, I'm. . . I'm scared. . . What if I get hurt? What if I hit it? What if. . ." _Slade understood. The first time she'd gone for the pole jump, despite all the time he'd spent warning her not to leap too early, despite all the times they'd practiced flipping over it without really doing it, she'd taken off too early. And had slammed into the hard pole, flinging her over it to land on the floor hard on her back. She'd had a large purple bruise on her stomach for a week. After that, she'd paid more attention to when she'd gone over it, and that never happened again. But that fear was still there.

"Slashera, you're ready. You'll be able to do this, Little Slash. I wouldn't ask you to if I thought otherwise," he murmured, smiling at her. She bit her lip, gazing at him. He smiled, "Ready?" he whispered, standing and taking a few steps back. She sighed, took about fifteen back, and clenched her fists, glaring hard at the log. Determination on her features. He smiled. _Here we go . . ._ Slashera took off, bursting from her standing position into a run at top speed. Feet from the log, she paused, and kicked off hard from the ground, dirt flying, and tucking herself in, did a somersault in midair, tucking her legs in as well as her arms and head, flipping three times as she sailed over the log. To land firmly on both feet on the other side.

Slade frowned at first. The girl certainly made it over it, but the way she jumped presented a new problem. By being cautious and ducking in on herself, she eliminated her ability to see anything for that split second. Later on, that could mean the difference between life and death. She had to know precisely what her next move should be. Had to be able to analyze the situation. And she very well couldn't do that blinded like that. But despite the perfectionist in him screaming for her to do it over and over until she got it right, he had no time for that today, and so he smiled at her as she turned to him, "Very good, Little Slash," he knelt down and hugged her tight, "See? I knew you could do it. Now, are you ready to go? We're almost there." He said happily. She smiled and nodded up at him as he stood up, and the two turned back to the path and continued their journey.

Finally, Slade stopped and turned to the young girl standing beside him. Smiling, he uncapped the jug of water and held it towards her. She opened her mouth obediently as he tilted it, letting the water flood down her throat. As he pulled it away, she licked her lips just a bit, and gazed up at him, as he tilted his own head back, guzzling down the last of the water. Once the jug was empty, he snapped the cap back on top and smiled at her, "We're here. Follow me, Little Slash." Turning, he pushed past some branches of some bushes and stepped out, waiting. She blinked, and slowly walked out behind him. And stared.

It was a large cabin settled deep in a clearing in the woods. The cabin itself sat on a hill with large pine logs shooting straight up from the ground to make up for the slope that would normally cause the house to be unsteady. The area this created beneath the porch above was surrounded with plain brown lattice to keep creatures out, and a screen on the inside of that, with a small gate and a padlock on it facing them. Within sat many pieces of training equipment covered with a royal blue tarp, along with a sizeable wood pile, a wood chopping block and axe, and a plastic deer with red dots for target areas at its vital points. Moving her eyes up, she gazed at the large porch up above, with pine trees giving off their great scent only inches from the railing. On said porch were two large rocking chairs, and wood carved wind chimes that knocked together in the breeze. The cabin as a whole had dark wood for its sides and railings, with the windows and green door having green trim and white curtains. On the opposite side of the house, one could see a light colored stone chimney over the roof. Out back one could see two sheds, one with a slightly smaller chimney coming out of it, and the other just normal. Between them and the door on their side of the house was a large dirt lot. As if for cars.

"Do you like it?" Slade asked, blinking, smiling regardless. He'd, with the help of Slade-bots, of course, constructed this cabin himself. And was quite fond of it. He had spent many a fun time here. Of course, he hadn't been able to be inside recently, but a select number of Slade Bots had maintained the place. Kept everything intact and in order. She turned to him and smiled up at him, "I love it, Father Slade!" she jumped up, and he chuckled, catching her in his arms, and held her up against him, her legs dangling off at his sides, "I'm glad. Slashera, we will be spending quite a bit of time here now. We'll go back home, but we'll be here for a while." He murmured, rubbing her spine and cradling her head, walking towards the house. She wrapped her arms firmly around his neck, "Are we gonna have fun?" "Of course! Today and tomorrow. And the next day. But we need to go inside now. And then we'll play." She smiled and kissed his neck, "I can't wait!" He smiled, as they neared the house. _And more importantly, you're going to learn your most important lesson while we're out here, Little Slashera. The key to your entire training._

The first room they entered through the green door was a rather small room. As Slashera turned her head, she gazed at the dark green walls surrounding them. To their right were two large machines, a washer and a dryer, with a sizeable portrait of two hunting dogs in some reeds along a river bank hanging above them. As Slade's boots creaked on the hardwood floor, the girl turned her head and gazed at the white plastic sink standing on four legs against the other wall, along with a few shelves of cleaning supplies and detergent. Announcing that it was the mudroom, he repositioned her, causing her to jump a bit in his arms, and walked on through the opposite doorway and into the major part of the house. The dark green walls of the living room reached high into the ceiling rafters of the house and on them were shelves of Bobcats, Quails, Turkey, all stuffed, gazing out with eyes frozen in time, along with various portraits of deer, hunting dogs, fish, and quail. Across the way, beside a doorway that no doubt led to more of the house, sat the large gray stone chimney, and on it the large head of a forty point buck. The wall beside Slade and Slashera housed the heads of five other deer while the leather furniture of the room donned their furs as blankets. She gazed up at the large chandelier made of deer antlers hanging in the center of the room.

Next, he walked into an open kitchen area nearby, with a window that over looked the porch placed right over the sink, the granite counter tops breaking only for that and a rather large stove. Two refrigerators, white in color, sat tucked away in a small corner, and at the other corner where a wall jutted out halfway along the living room, was a screen door that led to the porch. Two large shot guns leaned against the small wall, along with two fishing rods and a large tackle box. In the center of that area was a small dark oak table and chairs with a low hanging green colored dome lamp hanging over that. She gazed at it all before he moved her across the living room quickly and into the hallway, which had a picture of a white tail buck and a picture of a quail on its wall. To the left, she saw a wooden door in the wall at the end of the hall, and he announced that to be his room. Slade now turned to his right, and walked down to another door. Pushing it open, he showed her her room.

It was a small room with a wooden twin bed with blue plaid sheets beside a bedside table with an alarm clock identicalto hers at the warehouse set on it. Both pieces of furniture sat against the wall they were beside There was also a three drawer dresser drawers across from the doorway, beside a small window that had its glass pane up and screen down, showing the porch outside. On the other side of the bed was a door which Slade announced led to the bathroom. "So, what do you think?" he asked gently as the fan slowly turned up above, its lights off. She smiled, "I love it. . ." she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his neck, giving him a small kiss.

Once the "tour" was over, he set her down at the table and set about fixing lunch, pulling lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, ham, and cheese out of the refrigerator, and bread from a cabinet. Pulling down the eating utensils, he began, "Tell me, Slashera, have you ever been fishing?" She frowned, "I saw fishing in a . . . a book once . . . never done it before. . ." she whispered, diverting her eyes. "How would you like to go fishing with me?" he asked, smiling out the window at the woods. Knowing what her answer would be. She grinned at him, "OH FATHER SLADE, CAN I?!" she gasped. He smiled, and turning his head, glanced at her, "We'll go right after lunch if you'd like." Turning to the fridge closest to him, the one he'd gotten the food out of, he placed the leftover food inside and set about fixing both of them a glass of milk before moving to the table. With that, the two began to eat.

Half an hour later, Slade walked down the hill from the cabin, blinking, holding her hand, gazing out at the woods. She blinked, turning her head around as she gazed at every moving thing, then turned to him, and smiled, squeezing his hand. He turned and smiled at her, holding the two fishing poles and tackle box in his other hand and gave her hand a squeeze, "Tell me, are you having a Happy Birthday, Little Slash?" she grinned and nodded. As the ground began to even out. He smiled down at her, then turned, blinking, "We're almost there. . ."

In no time, they reached their destination, the large pond that fed the creek, the water's surface still as they approached two large boulders near the edge. Slashera blinked and slowly moved over to the water, reached down, and swirled her hand around in it while the man set to work preparing everything, opening up the huge tackle box and taking out a bag of fresh minnows. After picking a select number of jigs, he began to rig the lines, getting them ready for the fish. Turning to Slashera, he pulled out a large square bucket that the minnow bag had been in, and handed it out to her, "Why don't you fill that with water, Little Slash? To help while we're fishing?" she nodded, and moved over immediately, grabbed the bucket, and dunked it into the water, kneeling, and watched as the water swirled into the bucket, holding on tight to the object. Turning to him when it was nearly full, she walked over, "Is this alright?" He smiled at her, "Perfect," and took it out of her two hands by its handle. Picking her up, he put her firmly on top of one boulder, "Now sit. Don't fall . . ." he murmured, before getting up on the other boulder himself, the tackle box further back behind him. She shifted excitedly, wringing her hands. "Hold this. This'll be your fishing pole," he murmured, handing her the handle to the smaller pole. She gripped it tightly, and watched as he sat crisscrossed, put the minnow bag between his legs, and opened it via a small rubber band at the top. With that, the man reached in and grabbed one of the writhing fish. "Why are we using those?" she asked, frowning. He turned to her, smiled, and ran his hand down the line of her pole to the hook and began to bait the line, "So that the other fish, the ones we want to catch, will eat it!" "But aren't we hurting that one?" she whispered quietly, gazing at it. He smiled, "No, of course not, little Slashera. It's having fun. See how it's dancing? All excited?" he lied. As he speared it straight through an eye. She winced. "Don't worry Slashera, I checked. He wasn't using that one anyway. . ." he winked at her, "He only uses one. Like me." She smiled, "Alright then . . . if it's okay. . ." He smirked, "Now hold your line, as I bait mine." He quickly put a minnow on his and closed up the bag. Reaching around, he shifted slightly, and moved the bag back into the tackle box on top of the jigs. Next, he gripped her right hand tightly in his own, wrapping his arm around her back, "Now, I'm going to show you _once _how to cast your line out. To get the fish. . ." she blinked.

Minutes later, her line sailed through the air and broke the surface of the water. "WOW!" she gasped, happy to see it fly, as he did the same with his, for his to land a bit further out than hers. She turned to him, grinning, "NOW WHAT?!" He smiled at her, "And now we wait. Just hold your line and wait for a fish."

An hour later found Slashera's chin on her knees, her legs bent up against her chest, bored out of her mind, holding the line in her two hands. Nothing . . . not so much as a nibble . . . she turned to Slade, and sighed, "Does it _always _take so long?" she whispered. He frowned, crouched forward himself, gripping his, his eye only on the surface of the water, "Sometimes. You just have to be patient, Little Slash. At some point a fish _will _bite." She sighed, and turned to the line, "But Father Slade, it can get so boring. . ." she whispered. "I know," he murmured, "Just wait." Reaching over, he rubbed her back. _Trust me Slashera, when you do get one, you'll have so much stuff happening, that you won't be able to hardly keep up. . . _She blinked, and was silent for a minute, then lifted her head, _"I guess I just wish they'd. . . WOAH! FATHER SLADE! WHAT'S HAPPENING!" _she shrieked, jerking back, as her line was suddenly yanked.

He jumped into action, putting his line firmly in the ridge of the rocks and holding it there with one leg before moving over and behind her, wrapping his arms around hers, and gripped the bottom of her rod, "Okay, Slashera, you've got a fish, now you can't yank back like that . . . just slowly reel it in, or it'll break the line, take the hook, take the bait, or just break the rod . . . now easy. . ." She stared, as he slowly reeled in the fish, and gasped as the large trout began to flap above the water. Finally, the fish was flapping right in her face. Moving the fish off and holding it firmly on a piece of line with the hook still in, he turned to her, and held it, "Hold that _tight_," he muttered. She took it. At that moment, his own pole got a jolt. Picking it up, he quickly reeled his own in. Finally, she was staring wide eyed at the two huge fish that were held in their grips. "Wh-what now?" she whispered, staring up at him. He turned to her, smiled softly, and moving the hook out of the stilling fish's mouth, gripped the head and the body separately in his two hands and in one fluid move, broke the fish's head clean off with a _snap!_

Slashera screamed, and hardly held onto her fish, scooting away as blood flew out on her. By scooting away, she rolled down the side of the boulder, luckily not hitting her head, and landed on the grass. Curling up, she lit out a whimper. Clutching her own flailing trout tightly in both hands.

She lay there for ages it seemed before she felt two strong hands on top of her, _"Shhh, Slashera, shhh. . ." _"You . . . its head . . . you. . ." she was hyperventilating from her panic, staring wide eyed at him. "That's fishing. You fish to get the food. To get the food, you have to kill the fish," he reasoned simply. She turned, and gazed at him for the first time with accusing eyes, "Y-y-you said they would have fun!" she declared in a high pitched voice. He frowned hard down at her, "No. I said the _minnows_ would have fun. I never said the fish we were catching would." She gazed up at him, and tears streamed, "B-but why?" she whispered, "It didn't know what you were going to do . . . it didn't want to die." "If you took compassion on every fish that didn't know it was about to be killed, you'd never catch any," he remarked firmly. Frowning down at her. "B-but why did you have to. . ." "I _told _you. The fish is food. For us. We have to eat it. . ." "But it was just a _little fish!" _she whimpered, and jerked her head away, and wailed into the ground, "_IT'S NOT RIGHT!" _he frowned hard at her. He had to think quickly. Before this turned into something that needed to be avoided. An emotional breakdown. She had to continue to trust him. And right now, that meant having him work out the problem with her.

"Slashera, what's all this? Have you already forgotten everything I've taught you? Slashera . . ." he slowly moved her in a seated position and turned her to face him. "Tell me, Little Slash, why do people get hurt? Why do they get tortured and killed?" She gazed at him, and bit her lip, before, "Because they let themselves get captured." "Good," he smiled at her, "And what did this fish do?" She felt tears stream, "It. . . It got captured." "Now, could the fish have _not _gone and gotten our bait?" he asked. She glanced down at the trout, "I suppose so." "It _could _have. Trust me, there a lot of other fish in the water. And none of them went after it, now did they?" he said with a smile. Then, "Slashera, all people are animals on some level. Just like fish. And so there's one rule that applies to everyone."

He took a deep breath. Pausing. She gazed at him, "What's that?" "Survival of the Fittest. The weak, or those who allow themselves to be captured, deserve to be tortured and killed. It is through the death of the weak that the strong, including you and I, are made stronger. In order for the fish to make us stronger, we must kill it and eat it. _You _must kill it. Understand?" No. No she didn't understand. She'd never had to hurt a fish before. Why now? She gazed sadly down at the fish, contemplating how much different fishing was from what she'd expected. "Understand?" he asked a bit testily, impatient for her answer, before putting a hand on her shoulder, the fish grime on his hand getting on her. She turned to him, blinking. She knew what he wanted her to do. She knew how to make him happy. She wanted to make him happy . . . and it was just a little fish . . . and he said that she was supposed to kill it . . . she gazed down at the thing gazing up at her in her hand. She didn't even know the fish. It probably already was mad at her. It'd never be happy with her . . . but Slade would . . . but only if she killed the fish. Her choice was clear. She closed her eyes tight and moved her hands into position, taking a deep breath. She opened her eyes, watching as he removed the hook from the trout. She covered its eye facing her with her palm. Not wanting to see.

She jumped as blood flew up on her, but Slade smiled. "That's my little Slash. Good girl." He smiled, patting her shoulder, "Now, we're not quite done yet. . ." picking up the bucket and a large towel he'd put in it earlier once she'd filled it, he also got out two knives and two toothbrushes. Turning to her, he set the objects on the boulders, "Come on now. We still have a bit to do." She blinked, frowning at him, then slowly stood and walked over. The man smiled and hoisted the child up onto the boulder and with the boulders as a table, Slade set about showing her how to clean the two fish thoroughly, with her working on hers as he worked on his own, before firmly wrapping them in the towel.**

Despite him saying that he was proud of her yet again, Slashera shook visibly. Her hands were covered in fish guts, and blood splattered her face. As the knowledge of what she'd just done rang through her mind, much more clearly than it had been for the past half hour. She'd just killed a fish. She turned and after gazing at the fish head on the ground, keeled over. With that the girl began to throw up on the grass, clutching her stomach. Slade sighed and held her strands of hair back. Blinking. The child would need to have a lot more encouragement. To get over this.

Once she was empty of food to heave, Slashera gazed with teary eyes at the ground, the sour taste still in her mouth, gazing at her own bile. Then. . . Slade wrapped his arms around her firmly, "I'm really, _really proud of you, Little Slash. . ." _he knelt down, and held her tight to him, as if his life depended on it, his forehead against the top of her back, "I'm so, so proud. . . he whispered in her ear, closing his eye, "I know it's hard. I know you didn't like it. But things have to be done sometimes. If you hadn't killed the fish, you wouldn't have been able to eat him later, and you wouldn't have been able to get stronger. That's what you want, right?" she sobbed, "R-right. . ."

"Slashera, I know you don't want to hear this, but it'll only be easier on you if you keep practicing," he murmured, "So what do you say to washing our hands off a bit then fishing some more? Just a little bit longer. Only two or three more fish. Then we'll end it for today." she turned around and gazed at him, her eyes searching his own, her discomfort at the thought clear. He smiled at her again, and rubbed her cheek with a hand, "Slashera, I'm _very, very proud of you for what you did. You did what I asked. What you had to." _She heaved a sigh, "Y-you are?" He smiled at her, and winked, "How could I not be proud of my Little Slash? My little girl?" She gave him a weak smile, "Alright, let's keep going. It'll get easier . . . right?" she whispered. He smiled and nodded. Washing their hands in the pond, they began again.

The next fish was caught far too quickly for Slashera's liking, but by the end of it all, Slashera had grown to only think of Slade's pride in her when she killed the fish she caught, pushing the actual death from her mind. It made it easier not to think of it as being hurt. Only that it had to be done, for Slade to be happier with her. Finally, they had eight fish in the towel. After Slade had gathered up all their things, they headed back to the cabin to clean up, hand in hand.

Once he'd cut the fish into filets and fried them, Slade made some cornbread and cheese grits and the two sat to eat. Slashera picked up the piece of fried trout hesitantly, and ground the fish filet in between her teeth at the table silently. Knowing it was the fish she had caught and killed. He watched her, the girl's hair wet, in a blue T-shirt of his. Picking up some of his cornbread, he sopped up the last of his cheese grits, and ate it. She copied him, blinking, eating slowly. "Slashera," he murmured gently, after taking a deep sip of some chervil coffee, as she took a sip of milk. She turned to him, blinking. "We're going to work out a bit tomorrow morning. Like always. Then tomorrow afternoon, we're going fishing again. Alright?" She smiled weakly and nodded at him. He smiled, and reaching forward, ruffled her bangs, "I'm proud of you, Little Slash. So very proud . . . but you know, I think that I forgot something today. . ." he stood, and moved over to the fridge, opening it. Before pulling something out and turning to her. Her eyes widened at the red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing and chocolate sprinkles on top in his hand. He smiled, and stuck a candle in it, lighting it with a lighter from the counter, "Happy Birthday, my little one."

He put the cupcake before her. Moving behind her, he pulled her hair back, leaned down, and kissed her on the head, "My Little Slashera. I'm so, so happy with you." She felt a sense of joy at this and closing her eyes tightly, she blew out the candle. And watched as the smoke swirled in the air. He knelt down behind the chair and wrapped his arms around her chair, "We're gonna have a lot of fun up here, Slashera. Won't we?" She smiled, and leaned back in his embrace, "Yes sir, Father Slade." She gripped his arm muscles tightly. He smiled, and reaching out with a finger, smirked, whisking up some icing, and moving it back, touched the tip of her nose with it. She giggled a bit, squirming, before swiping her tongue out and licking the icing off, before picking up the cupcake and eating it. He smirked, still kneeling behind her, "That's my girl."

Slashera lay in bed that night, gazing up at the ceiling as thoughts rushed through her mind. Something was different about Slade today. One minute he'd be fine, then the next he'd be angry with her, and then one minute he'd be angry with her, then the next he'd be fine. It scared her. She didn't want him to be mad with her, and today, she'd made him mad at her so many times! She whimpered softly, and rolled over on her side, gazing with tired eyes at the wall, tears racing down, curling up. How could she be sure to make him happy? It was then that the answer hit her. _I'm just going have to do whatever he wants me to do. That'll be just fine. Slade won't hurt me. I know it. _Slade smiled softly, glancing inside the window from where he sat in a rocker on the porch, watching her with his crystal eye. Before turning around and tilting his Jack Daniel's Bottle back, letting the fiery whiskey race down his throat. It was then that something vibrated in a pocket on his belt. Reaching down, he pulled out his small PDA and went to his E-mail. And smirked.

SW,

The team over here has been concerned as to how moving the exhibit to another wing went. Did all go according to plan?

WW

Slade smirked, to a deep swig of his whiskey, and after setting it down on the floor of the porch, leaned forward in the seat and let his fingers fly over the device's keyboard.

WW,

Thank you for your concern. And yes, the move was successful. A select number of unforeseen issues came up but were successfully overcome. I must ask, however, as to whether the sculpture the staff has favored so much over there is ready for shipment. We are quite eager to receive it over here. It will be a prime part of the exhibit, you know.

SW

He waited a moment, then. . .

SW,

Soon.

WW

* * *

A/N: So yeah, the woods=Slade's favorite place in the world. I loved making him all giddy and happy of being out of the warehouse with Little Slash again. Everyone deserves to have some fun and happiness every once and a while. Even Slade. 0_0 I actually looked up a video on cleaning trout before writing this and was like 0.o Yeah, I really don't think Slade could make me do that without holding a gun on me. . .


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Batman.

A/N: Let me say, that there is a fair warning: there will be some singing in this chapter. 0_o That's all I'm going to say. lol

* * *

The rocking chair creaked against the wooden porch as it moved back and forth, adding its own sound to the various sounds of the forest. A bluebird flew through various branches to its nest in a tree, the worm it had captured firmly in its beak, to feed the three hungry babies it had in its nest. All three sat with mouths open wide, fully trusting her for protection. In another tree, two squirrels hurried as quickly as the blink of an eye, racing up the trunk, playing their own morning game of tag. Down the hill further in the forest, a mother deer drank from a small creek beside her little fawn, as the various bugs of the forest added their own music to the day. And as Slade lifted the mug of chervil coffee to his lips, he couldn't help but realize that he alone witnessed this magnificent symphony as they played their masterpiece out.

Slade smiled, rocking slightly as he sat and basked in the fresh morning air of the forest, his jumpsuit already on. He'd been up most of the night preparing for today's activities, and had just come back around thirty minutes ago, put away the cart he'd been using with a few of his supplies under the porch, and fixed himself a cup of coffee before it was time to go prepare breakfast. He grasped any chance he got to just sit and watch out over his forest, when it came along, and basked in the serene, calming sounds of it every morning. Tilting his head back, Slade lifted the coffee mug to his lips once more and downed the last of the hot liquid, before standing up and walking back inside. Quietly, he lifted up the small window over the sink, so that only the screen was in between him and the world outside. So that as he got down the cooking utensils and brought out the food, he could still hear his wonderful wood.

Slashera did not share her "father's" sentiment about the sounds of the morning. For some reason, she found her sleep repeatedly interrupted by the drumming of something hard on wood. She would groan and pull her pillow over her head to block it out, and for a moment it'd pause. Then the incessant drumming would begin again! Pulling her more and more out of her sleep. Until finally. . . Slashera tossed herself over, sat up, and flung her pillow at the window's screen! The pillow bounced off and hit the floor, not bothering the window at all. And apparently, not the source of the annoying beating.

Frowning, the girl got up, and padded across the room to the window, running a hand through her disheveled hair. And she stared at the large bird just feet from the porch. It had a tuff of red sticking out straight from the back of its head, and the rest of it was black and white. Its wings were tucked in tightly to its sides, and its feet dug deep into the tree it was on. . . and then it started. She stared, as its beak, its _mouth!_ beat into the bark of the tree, parts of the bark actually flying off, the bird's head only a blur. What was this thing?! Didn't that hurt?! Why would it _do _that?! As she was pondering the strange creature, she heard it. It sounded. . . sounded like Father Slade. . . but it was different somehow. Frowning, turning to her room door, she glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It only read back to her 5, 1, and 5. Not 5, 4, and 5. But Father Slade was up? She decided to go find him. He sounded different to her, and perhaps that might not be a good thing. . . she turned to her bed, and frowned. Where was her jumpsuit? She'd have to ask him. . . turning to her door, she opened it, and left her room, going to the kitchen, the source of his voice.

Slade smiled, as the bacon fried and eggs cooked on the stove, him turning and stirring each every now and then. _"This land is your land. . ." _he leaned down, and opened the oven door, and smiled at the biscuits baking inside, "_This land is my land. . ." _he closed it, and turned to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out two cold bananas, a bunch of grapes, and three apples. Pulling out a knife from a drawer, he began to peel and cut them, putting them in a glass bowl he also pulled from a cabinet, "_From California. . . to the New York Island. From the redwood forest. . . to the gulf stream wa-a-ters. . ." _he said, smiling as he put the bowl on the table, bouncing a bit with the "a"s as he walked from counter to table. Turning on his heel, he went back to the stove, and turned the bacon again, "_This land was made for you and me. . ." _He smiled as he saw that the bacon in the pan was done, and turning to a cabinet and pulled down a plate, before grabbing a paper towel from a roll beside the sink, "_I've roamed and rambled. . . and I've followed my footsteps. . ." _he put the three pieces of thick bacon on the paper towel, and folding the other side over, got the grease out of it, pressing down, _"To the sparkling sands of. . . her diamond deserts! And all around me. . ." _he put those on the plate, and turning to the platter of raw bacon he had out, put three more pieces of bacon on the pan, which immediately began to sizzle and pop again, _"A voice was sou-ou-nding. . . this land was made for you and me!" _He turned to the eggs, and smiled seeing that they were done, and turning off that burner of the stove, lifted the pan off, at the same time grabbing a large bowl from a cabinet overhead and using the spoon he'd used to stir them with, began to empty the pan into the bowl. Once that was done, he left the spoon there, and the timer went off on the oven. Leaning down, he opened the door, and pulled out the pan of two brown biscuits, all ready to be eaten. Grabbing the butter from the fridge, he sliced each open, and put the butter in them to begin to melt._ "This land is your land. This land is my land. . ." _he said, moving his head just a bit back and forth, _"From California, to the New York Island. From the redwood forest to the gulf stream wa-a-ter. . ." _he turned and smiled, taking down two plates, and put one biscuit on each, then added the eggs in equal portions to each, "_This land was made for you and me!" _Turning to the table, he moved to the table, _"And when the sun came shining. . . and I was strolling. . ." _he put them before the chairs, and was turning back to the counter when . . . "Slashera?"

Slade stared at the girl who was standing just at the opening to the kitchen, staring up at him, still in the living room area. She'd come in when he was putting the bowl of fruit on the table. . . she just . . . hadn't wanted to interrupt him yet. . . he blinked, and smiled, "How long have you been there, Little Slash?" turning to the bacon, he turned them over, still waiting on her answer. "Not long . . . I. . . couldn't sleep. . . some bird was banging on a tree with his mouth outside my window," she said, blinking. He chuckled, and turned to her, a smile firmly in place, "That would be a woodpecker. Crazy little bird, isn't it?" he said, his eye alight with amusement. "Why was it banging its head on the wood?" "To get his breakfast, why else?" he said, smiling, walking to the refrigerator, grabbing a glass from a cabinet on his way, and pulling out the jug of milk, began to pour her some, turning to her, "Sit at the table, Little Slash. Your jumpsuit's in the dryer. It's almost ready to be worn," he assured her, as if knowing her thoughts. She blinked and sat down, as he put the glass of milk before her, "Woodpeckers eat little bugs that are in trees. That drumming is him digging deep inside the wood to get to them. That's all. He didn't mean to wake you up," he assured her, smiling at her and ruffling her hair. With that, he turned to the stove and taking the bacon off of it turned off the burner, putting the meat on a fresh paper towel and getting the grease out of it before moving the bacon plate to the table, along with his coffee and some silverware, "And now, it's time for us to eat _our _breakfast! We have a busy day ahead of us Little Slash!" he said with a smile. She smiled and with that, they began to eat.

Slashera couldn't hide her relief as they went down the trail not to go fishing, but to go to a different part of the woods. She let out her sigh, as Slade held her hand and they walked over branches and dirt, him holding in his other hand two jugs of water. She knew she'd have to fish again soon, and she knew that she'd have to kill another fish again soon, but that could wait for a little bit as far as she was concerned. Slade smiled. He knew the child was happy they weren't going to the pond. But soon, she'd enjoy it. He knew she would. "I'm taking you to a very special place today, Slashera. One I think you'll enjoy," he said, smiling down at her, her in her jumpsuit and sneakers. She turned to him, and smiled, "What is it?" He chuckled, "You'll see. It's one of my favorite parts of this place." She blinked up at him, turned her head, and continued on.

They walked in silence up and down hills for a few minutes until. . . _"Alright, we're almost there,"_ he murmured, leaning down, and placing the two jugs of water on the path, then turned to her, and held out his hands, kneeling before her, "_Come on," _he whispered, smiling gently at her, _"We don't need to cause too much noise. We can't scare them." _She blinked, frowning, and slowly moved over. He immediately lifted her up, and cradling her head from any branches, his warm hand over her braid, as he pushed through the trees for another yard. Looking between the trees, he smiled, and turned to her, _"Okay, Slashera. Turn your head and look around." _She did, and gasped. They were on the edge of a large clearing, and inside of it. . .

The large does and their fawns grazed quietly in the morning air, with at least ten does and five fawns in number, moving quietly in the misty haze that had befallen their breakfast grazing ground. Silent. _"They're. . . they're so pretty. . ." _she breathed, staring at them, her arms around his neck, "_What are they, Father Slade?" _she whispered. Slade smiled. He'd known it'd been a good idea to plant some deer corn earlier that morning. He'd been sure they'd come. This group of deer had been running around his forest for years. . . _"Those are deer, Little Slash. See those big ones? Those are mother deer. They're called does. And the little ones are their babies. They're called fawns. The more spots they have, the younger they are. . ." _he said quietly. She smiled, then some movement further away caught her eye. She turned, _"What are those?" _He blinked, and turned his head, watching as six young bucks walked into the clearing and towards the does. _"Those are bucks. The boys." _he remarked, blinking at them. As they quietly began to eat not too far off from the does and their babies. It was then that every head in the clearing turned and looked at the other end. She turned her head, and gasped. _"That one's BIG!" _she said, eyes wide. He chuckled. It was the lead stag, a large thirty point buck, which walked with such a stately air that it simply demanded respect.

It was a walk that Slade could respect. He'd watched the stag grow through the years, and if the scars on the creature weren't enough to testify, Slade knew that it had gone up against some pretty tough other bucks to maintain its respect. _"That's the leader. The other deer, especially the babies and does, are like his family. He watches over them in another part of the woods," _he murmured. It was then that the stag turned his head to a young buck, that was feet from a doe. _"Why's he looking at him like that?" _she whispered, sensing the tenseness in the air. _"The younger bucks don't know how to be careful. They could hurt the fawns with their horns," _Slade remarked, blinking, tightening his grip on her just slightly, as if he too were affected by the intensity riding on the air. _"Then he better get them away! Right? Protect them?" _Slade nodded, frowning, _"That's precisely what he's going to do. . . if that buck doesn't mo. . ." _he had no chance to finish, for at that moment, the stag charged, and his horns dug into the sides of the young buck, sending the deer to the ground.

The buck staggered to its feet, unable to find its footing, and the stag slammed into his side again. This helped the deer up, and he turned to the older deer, some blood on his side, blinking. Yet not giving up his ground. . . the stag charged again, head ducked down. But this time the buck was ready. Or so he thought. . . the resounding clack as their heads butted together was loud enough and hard enough to make him collapse on the ground. In no time, the stag had backed up a bit and was coming again. Scrambling up, the young buck turned and fled into the woods as quick as a flash and far away. Turning to three other young bucks, the stag jerked his head a bit. Not having to learn respect the hard way, the three turned and leapt out of the clearing. Then he turned to the others. Which trembled slightly. Fearful of his reaction to them. Then he turned, and marched away. Seeming to accept them. For now.

_"Are they not dangerous?" _she whispered, blinking. Slade blinked, and nodded, "_Not now, anyway. He'll get rid of them too if they cause trouble. . ." _She blinked, "_That's good. . ." _Slade nodded, and moved his foot a bit, and stepped on a branch. And smiled, as the stag lifted his head and stared straight at them. Slashera tensed, staring wide eyed, _"He's not going to come at us, is he?" _she whispered, fear in her features at the prospect. Slade smirked, "No way," he said in a tone that let the buck know he was just as confident and demanding of respect, "You're safe with me, Little Slash," he said, eye locked on the deer, which got the message. Turning, he ran out of the clearing, leaping clear over a fallen tree on the other side, his does, fawns, and remaining bucks following quickly behind, birds near the tree getting upset and flying out in various colors, merely adding to the beauty of it all.

Slade smiled and turning, marched back to the path, set her down, and grabbed the two waters, "Now, that was pretty nice, wasn't it little Slash?" he said, smiling. She nodded quickly, gazing up at him as he gazed down at her, "Oh yes! And the way they jumped was so pretty!" she said excitedly, "And _fast_ too!" He smiled. _Perfect. _The demonstration did just what it was supposed to. . . "You know, Little Slash, I can show you how to jump like that. If you want to learn," he murmured, eye calm and collected as it gazed down at her. She grinned, "You will?!" she said, jumping slightly, excitement bubbling inside her. He smiled, "Of course I will. Now let's go and start on that, okay?" She grinned, nodded, and quickly followed him as he jogged further down the path.

Slashera stared around her at the even larger clearing. Red spray paint was on the ground in the shape of four ovals of varying sizes, the outer one the largest and running along the edge of the clearing, with the three others gradually decreasing in size and inside of it. In the center of the clearing was a tall pine tree, with the branches clean of bark near the bottom of it, and some with horizontal posts on the opposite sides of the tree, each with a twin. On the two outside tracks of the ovals, there was nothing, but on the two inside tracks, various hurdles were placed, metal ones with wooden boards to jump over, and able to rock back and forth and have their various heights adjusted. Near the tree, was a hurdle and a bale of hay on either side of it. She stared, as he moved forward and set the two jugs of water on the bale of hay closest to them, and turned to her, hands resting on his waist, "We'll start by doing something that you're used to, Little Slash, running around the track. . ." moving to the third lane to the edge, he moved quickly around it, then back to stand before her, on the edge of the four tracks on the inside, blinking at her, "Then, we'll work on jumping the hurdles. . . he demonstrated this as well, jumping easily the five hurdles as he had the tree the day previous on the inside track. He turned to her, he then smiled, "And then, we'll do a few other exercises. But more on those later. Ready to stretch and go?" She smiled, and nodded, "Yes sir!"

The first quarter of the work out was easy, but as Slashera drank some water as he held the jug for her, she began to feel a bit of unease . . . turning to the hurdles, she frowned. He blinked at her, "Slashera, you made it over the tree yesterday with a foot to spare. You _can _do this. Remember? And I'll be so very proud of you when you do. . . now, follow me. . ." moving to the nearest hurdle, he turned to it, backed up about two yards, and ran up to it, before bending his right leg and sailing over it, bringing his left leg up as he did so and landing on the other side. After doing that with the next three hurdles, he turned to her, and nodded. Knowing he had his work cut out for him. She sighed, and moving to his starting position, ran at the hurdles, and flipped over them, pausing before each one and tucking in as she went. Turning to him, she blinked up at him. He smiled, and put a hand on her head, "That's my girl." She smiled up at him.

Then he frowned, "But Slashera, there's one problem. . ." She frowned, "What is it, Father Slade?" he turned to the first hurdle and walked over to it, and turned to her, "This is how you're going over it. Watch. . ." he ran at it, forced himself to pause, and flipped high over it. Before landing on the other side. Turning to her, he blinked, and asked across the clearing, "Now, what was different about that form the deer's leaps and mine?" She frowned, blinking, "You didn't tuck in. . . but Father Slade, I don't think I can do it any other way. . ." "I understand," he said, blinking at her, "Tell me, Slashera, are you scared of hitting the hurdle?" She bit her lip, and nodded, her eyes on the ground, and put a hand over her stomach, _"It. . . it hurt. . ."_ she whispered. He blinked, "Answer me, Slashera. Are you scared of hitting this hurdle?" he asked pointing at the one in front of him. She looked up, and nodded, "Yes sir. It . . . it hurt before. . ." He nodded, "I understand. But look. . ." he walked up to the hurdle, and _hopped _up on it, one leg connecting with it, until the hurdle had its wooden board on the ground, his foot on top of it, the pole that was holding it up now on the ground, the one that was on the ground now up behind him, as he blinked at her, "The pole at home wasn't nearly so easy to move. If you hit it, the board won't try to stop you. It won't hurt as much." She frowned, blinking . . . she didn't want to hit it at all.

He walked over, and the hurdle flipped right back up, luckily having been reinforced so he didn't snap it in two . . . "Look, Slashera, I know what you want to do," he murmured, kneeling before her, and putting a hand on her shoulder, studying her with his crystal blue eye, "You don't want to expose any more of your body to the board, so that it has less it can hit, right? And you don't want your body to get too close to it when you get over it, right? Is that why you tuck in when you go over it?" he murmured. Already knowing the answer. She looked at him, _"Yes sir. . ."_ she whispered. "Slashera, I understand your fear," he murmured, rubbing her cheek with a thumb, cradling it in his palm as he gazed at her, "And I know that it can be scary. . . but while there's _some_ reasons for your tucking in, there's _more_ reasons why that is a problem. . ." turning, he walked over to the hurdles, and began to run at the first hurdle again, "Now, Little Slash, when you come at the hurdle, to tuck in, you have to hesitate. Stop. For me, I just need to take off . . . see?" he leapt clean over it, and landed on the other side and kept running, not hesitating, "And when you land, you pause again, before you take off. I don't have to. This keeps the energy I have going, and so I don't have to worry about building up any power for my next. . ." he leapt over the next, "Jump. See? If you keep jumping like you were doing, then you would wear yourself out, because you'd have to stop and start again, causing you to use even more energy. Plus, by hesitating. . ." he jumped over the next, her turning to watch him leap over the hurdles, "You have no power to flow into your leap, and so you have to use even more energy to make it over the hurdle. . ." he leapt over the last one and turned to her, walking over, blinking at her, "You'd get tired quicker than me in no time, Little Slash. And if you want to keep up with me, that _can't _happen. Understand?" she blinked, and nodded at him. He smiled, "Good girl. . ." he rubbed her bangs again, "Now, I know that jumping the hurdles in a new way can be hard. . . so first we'll practice on this. . ." he turned to the hay bale closest to them, the one without the water jugs, and taking a rope on it, pulled it over to them. "I want you to just jump onto it, and practice the movements of your legs. See?" he took a few steps back and ran for it, taking off feet before he reached the hay bale, lifting his right leg up, his left leg out behind him, and landed on the hay bale's top, his right leg landing first, then his left leg. He stepped down, turning to her, "Just bend your right leg up when you leap, and let your left leg stay back a bit, then when you feel yourself start to come down, bring your left leg up, and nearly touch the hay bale at the same time. Just kind of let your right leg lead your left. Okay? I'll be right here. You won't fall." He murmured, moving to stand beside the hay bale. She blinked, and nodded, moving over to be the same distance from it as he had been, and began to run. _Alright, . . ._ she hit the ground with her right and left leg at the point where he had, and felt herself take off. . .

_Right leg bent. . . _she blinked, bending it. . ._left leg extended. . . now right leg down. . . left leg up. . . _"WOAH!" she gasped, as she hit the hay bale unsteadily, and began to fall backwards. Her arms flailed in the air, and Slade was behind her like a flash of lightning, "GOTCHA!" he gasped, and caught her in his arms. As she blinked up at him, he smiled, "Nice work. Good focus on what you were supposed to be doing, my Little Slash. I'm very proud of you. I think my first time wasn't as good as that!" he applauded. She frowned down at where her ankles rested on top of the hay bale. It hadn't hurt. Only scared her. The hay bale had cushioned her, but. . . "I didn't finish. . ." she mumbled. . . "True, you weren't entirely ready to land. . . but I could tell you were thinking on it. It was just that you were focusing so much on what you were supposed to do that it impaired your speed. You were moving slower than the jump itself was taking. . .but the point was that you were focusing on it. And I'm proud of you for that," he said firmly. And saw that even that applauding didn't make her smile. "Here, let me help you.. Tell me what you were thinking," he murmured, maneuvering his arms and setting her on the hay bale. Standing before her. She frowned up at him. . .

"Right leg bent. . . left leg extended. . . now right leg down. . . left leg up. . . then I fell over. . ." she looked to the ground, sighing. He smiled softly, "That's a lot to have to think about. . . let me help. . ." he turned and walked off a bit, and turned to her, "When you're walking it's right leg, then left leg, correct?" he said, walking over towards her as he spoke. She blinked, "Right. . ." "It's the same when you're leaping," he said, smiling, "As long as you remember that, you just have to think up, then down, right? So your right leg goes up, then your left leg goes up. Then your right leg goes down, then your left leg goes down. So just think up, then think down, alright?" he ran forward a bit, and past her, then . . . "Up, then down!" he said, jumping as he did so landing on the other hay bale. She blinked, frowning, and stood. Ready to try again. "There we go! Now let's try again!" he said happily. She blinked, walked off again, then ran. And took off. . . _Up. . . down. . ._she landed firmly on top of the hay bale. "I DID IT!" she said happily, grinning. _And I'm not hurting. . . _"Beautiful!" he declared, throwing his arms up, "If you keep doing that, you'll be leaping like those deer in no time!" he said happily. She grinned and got down, walking off again. "Now do it again and. . . there we go!" he said, having to stop mid-sentence. She'd just landed again. Getting off, she smiled and walked off, to begin again.

And so, for the next hour, she ran, took off, and landed. She slowly grew better and better at leaping, and her fear was gradually destroyed. And Slade congratulated her every time. By the end of the hour, he was sorely tempted to take her over to the hurdle by the other bale. . .but thought better of it. She was still a bit shaky a few times, and despite the fact that he caught her each time, he knew he needed to pace her progress. He didn't want a bad memory to have to deal with again . . . finally, after an exceptionally good landing, he smiled, "Let's call it quits for the day, Slashera," he murmured, walking behind her, and picking her up before he set her on the ground. She turned and frowned at him. Sure she'd fallen backwards a few times, but that was only a few. . . "But Father Slade, I thought we were going to jump hurdles today." she said, frowning. Turning to gaze at the objects. He chuckled, "I admire your enthusiasm, but I just want to call it quits for _today_. Tomorrow, we may jump a hurdle. Okay? We need to pace your improvement, Little Slash," he put a hand on her shoulder, "Besides, I have one more thing I want us to do today, so. . ." he lifted a water jug off of the ground, and uncapping it, held it towards her, and she began to gulp the rest of the water down, gazing at him, "Let's take a water break and get that done, okay? Then we'll go back to the house and eat lunch!" he said with a smile. She smiled and nodded, running the back of one hand over her sweaty and wet mouth, "OKAY!"

"Alright, Little Slash. . ." Slade muttered, climbing up the poles of the tree, and settling down on one branch and one sturdy wooden post opposite it, gripped the branches where his head was, straddling the tree. He locked his legs around the back, and then let himself fall backwards, able to stop himself before he hit the tree. He blinked at her, upside down, his arms crossed behind his head, the elbows sticking out on the sides. His knees hooked over the branch and pole, "What we're going to do now is work on your abdominal muscles . . . they're right here. . ." he reached out with one hand, and patted her stomach area, which already had a bit of muscle. But not nearly enough in his mind. "We'll also be working on mine," he announced, and reaching up, patted his rock hard abs.

She blinked and turning her head, bent her body, so that her upper torso let her head be upside down too. He let out a chuckle. After all, it was all he could do to stop from bursting out laughing. "How are we going to do that?" she said, blinking at him, ignoring the laughter. "Like this," he said, and blinked, before doing a crunch upwards, his hands behind his head, and touched his left knee with his right elbow, then leaned back down and did a crunch again, only touching his right knee with his left elbow. Then he repeated the move. Leaning back down, he smiled at her, "Ready?" leaning up, he flung out his arms, grabbed the branches they had been on previously, and slid his legs out from behind the branch and pole, and placed his booted feet firmly on the ground. Turning to her. She stared at him.

He smiled softly, "Here . . . let me help . . ." she blinked. Wary of this new exercise . . . but let him walk behind her and pick her up all the same, and move her to the tree. "Alright, put your knees up on top of the pole and branch," he murmured, and she blinked, slowly sliding her legs over the ones directly in front of her knees. "Good girl," he praised, "Now lean forward, and wrap your arms and your legs around the trunk. Like when I carry you. Okay?" she blinked and did so. Locking her legs. "Alright, now _don't worry_. I'll be right behind you . . . now, let go, and let yourself lean back. I won't let you get hurt, Little Slashera. . ." he murmured. She sighed, and swallowed her fear, "Alright, Father Slade. . ." she slowly let go, and leaned back, gripping each branch as she slowly descended, gritting her teeth, eyes shut tight. Finally her back touched the trunk. She opened her eyes, her hands gripping the limbs where they'd ended up, staring up at him. He smiled, "Excellent . . . now," he leaned forward and patted her knees, "These are firm. From running. They won't slip. Especially since you locked them so well. So, just put your hands behind your head like me. . ." he motioned it. She bit her lip. The fear evident. He smiled, "I'll catch you, Slashera. I'll be right here." She sighed, nodded, and put her hands behind her head. "Good girl. . . now I need you to lean up, and touch your left knee with your right elbow. . ." he said slowly, putting his hands behind her shoulder blades. She gritted her teeth, and slowly tried. And groaned. Only able to make it halfway. Sighing, she flopped back, gazing up at him.

He smiled weakly, "It's only because you haven't done this before. Here, I'll help. I'll support you," he cradled her shoulder blades, "Go." She nodded and slowly leaned up. And with the aid of his hands, was able to touch her knee. He smiled, "Great. . . now down. . ." she laid back, breathing hard a bit. "Now up. . ." he said doing it again, and she touched the other knee. "Excellent," he murmured, "And again. . ."

They performed the exercise for forty five minutes with Slade gradually moving his hands away to just hover over her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind, still able to perform the exercise. After the thousandth time for both knees, he smiled, "All done. . ." she laid back, and sighed up at him, a smile on her face, breathing hard, drenched in sweat, "I . . . did . . . it. . ." "Yes, yes you did, Little Slash. . . now let's get you down. . ." she nodded and slowly moved up to straddle the tree again. Waiting. He smiled, and rested his palms into the grooves of her waist, "One. . . Two. . . Three!" he pulled as she released, and in no time she stood, a bit wobbly, on the ground before him. She grunted, and leaned on the tree. He smiled, "How about a quick drink of water. . ." he ran over to the water and back, and let her drink half of the other gallon, then drank the rest of it himself. And smiled at her, "And how about I give you a piggy back ride back to the cabin?" he said, "You were so good, I don't think carrying you is enough of a reward, Little Slash," he said brightly. She blinked then smiled. He'd never done that before. . . turning, he leaned down, "Get on." She leaned over him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "One, . . . Two. . . Three!" he said, and she jumped, as his arms swept back and gripped her legs, and tugging her into the sitting position, he stood straight, before going and getting the other water jug, "Let's go!" he said happily, and they jogged back to the cabin.

Twenty minutes later, she sat on the edge of a rocking chair, biting into her sandwich, her orange juice on the floorboards of the porch beside her chair, him eating his sandwich and some orange juice as well beside her. As she gazed out at the forest, her excitement about the morning's activities slowly ebbed, and her uneasiness about fishing began again. Her stomach did a flip flop, and she began to eat slower. To try to avoid the trip back to the pond . . . he noticed. And sighed, "Little Slash, I'm very proud of you. But you knew . . . and you know, that we're going to go back eventually." She turned her gaze to him, and he saw the silent pleading. Her discomfort. And he felt for her. He really did. . . but. . . "The more you do it, the easier it's going to get. You're probably going to enjoy it sooner or later," he assured her, "And it needs to get done. We need the food to eat," he murmured, blinking at her. She bit her lip, and turning, took another bite of her sandwich. Grinding the meat between her teeth. "Look at it this way, even though the quicker we get out there the earlier you have to do it, the earlier you have to do it the earlier it gets done. How about that?" she turned, and blinked at him . . . then . . . she turned, and ate her sandwich silently. He took two more bites and was done. Taking his orange juice, he drank, his eye watching her. She drank her orange juice as well, then turned to him, blinking, "Alright. Let's go." She stood. He smiled, "That's my girl." Slapping his knees, he stood, and ruffled her hair.

One fishing trip, one shower, and one dinner later, Slashera's overall exhaustion set in. Chuckling, Slade walked over to her window and picked up her pillow, smiling down at it, "Got kind of mad at the woodpecker this morning, didn't we?" he said with a wry smile, turning to her. She frowned, "I didn't know he was just trying to eat," she said, blinking up at him. He laughed softly, shaking his head, and walked over to her, her in his black muscle shirt, standing beside her bed. He put the pillow at the head of her bed, and she climbed into bed flopping down on her pillow with tired eyes. He smiled, "You'll sleep so well tonight, you might not even be bothered by that old bird," he said, pulling the covers up to her chin, and putting his hands on either side of her head, leaned down, giving her a light kiss on the forehead, "Good night, my little one," he murmured leaning back and smiling at her, "I'm so, so proud of you." She smiled, and reaching up with two arms, wrapped them around his neck, pulling him down, whispering in his ear, "I love you, Father Slade," she replied, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Before snuggling in deep under the covers, soon fast asleep. He smiled down at her and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. He gazed at her for a moment then stood and walked out of the room, turning and watching her one more time before walking out, and closing the door lightly behind him. Walking through the cabin, he went out on the porch again and gripping the railing leaned out, gazing at the pitch black darkness of the woods. Hearing the crickets chirping and owls hooting. Even the snakes slithering and the creatures walking slowly below. And smiled. He'd thoroughly enjoyed every moment of today. And knew that he'd be enjoying a lot more of days in the months to come. He turned, and smiled at the screen of her window. And sooner or later, Slashera would be enjoying every moment as well. Even the killing. Chuckling, he turned back to gaze up at the full moon.

* * *

A/N: Soo, yeah, Slade sang . . . I actually laugh every time I reread that part . . .and they worked out in the woods. I would love to try that! And I really think that if Slade _stayed_ the same way as he was out there, I wouldn't mind having him as a fitness instructor. . . And they saw some deer! I actually have deer that come through my backyard every night at around the same time. And I've sat outside super quiet so that I can see them. But I've never seen a huge stag. I want to, though.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Batman.

* * *

The man stood at the railing on the cabin's porch, arms folded before him, wearing only a black muscle shirt, gray lounge pants, and boots. Slade's crystal eye gazed dully out at the doe and fawn stepping daintily through the forest below. His eye flitted to watch as two blue birds flew through the branches of a tree nearby, chattering to one another in a language only they understood. He glanced up as a squirrel that, having worked up enough courage, leapt off of the roof of the porch, and latched onto the branch of the tree closest to him before scurrying down it to run through the old leaves of the forest floor. Slade took a deep breath, taking in all of the life and energy of the forest around him. He'd been up for hours, standing there, taking everything in, watching as the creatures emerged to begin their new day. He sighed. Now it was his turn, and for once, he was not looking forward to it. He turned to the screen door and walked back in, as if a prisoner coming in from yard time to return to his cell.

In sharp contrast to the outside world, the cabin had become quiet. Too quiet, as far as Slade was concerned. His boots marched slowly across the kitchen floor to the refrigerator. He frowned, blinking, and pulled open the door to the fridge, and his eye fell upon the long row of glass vials on the top shelf. He let out a sigh and reaching out with his right hand, grasped the vial farthest to the right before pulling it back . He gazed at the vial's label as the Latin words _Crotalus adamanteus* _seemed to glare accusingly back at him from the side of it. He blinked, turned, and placed it on the counter beside the syringe and sizeable needle already there before walking back to his room.

He stood, staring at his room door for a moment longer. The cabin seemed to hold its breath, as if to wait for his next move. His shoulders slumped as he sighed and opening the door, he gazed sadly in at what seemed to be the very source of the house's dull, lifeless state of being. Slade let his blue eye fall upon the bundle lying curled up and shaking in the middle of his bed.

Slashera whimpered, pulling the three layers of plaid blanket, wool blanket, and deer skin closer to her as she heard the door open. The child lay on her side on the bed, her eyes squint shut, sweating despite the chills that had been plaguing her earlier. She let two tears race down her cheeks as she heard Slade march over and tucked her face deeper into the blankets as she felt the bed dip when he sat.

Slade gazed at her morosely and leaning over with one arm rubbed a cheek with his palm, _"Little Slash? Are you awake?" _he murmured in a kind voice. She whimpered and bit her lip before forcing her eyes open to gaze at him. He smiled weakly at her, trying in vain to put up an optimistic front to combat the despair in her eyes, "It's time." She shook her head, her matted and knotted hair moving against the blankets, "_No. . . no more . . . please, Father Slade. . ." _She choked out a sob, shaking, "_Please . . . not anymore. . ."_she whispered. He blinked, and brushed her tears away before whispering, "_I know you don't want to, Little Slash. . ." _He paused. _I wouldn't like it either to be completely honest. . . "But it has to be done," _he whispered finally.

Leaning forward, he wrapped his two large arms around her slowly and drew her closer to him. Maneuvering her as if she were a porcelain doll, he came to cradle her like a baby in his arms, still wrapped up in the three blankets and gazing up at him with pleading black eyes. In that moment, a small part of Slade wanted to just put her back on the bed. To just hold her and try to ease her pain. But sadly, Slade knew that no matter how much he willed it to, that wouldn't help her at all. So. . . "_This is the last time, Little Slash. I promise."_ he whispered, and leaning her up, pressed his warm lips to her sweaty forehead.

He moved his legs with a grunt as he got up from the bed, and slowly moved out of the room and into the hallway, his eye never leaving her face, _"After this, we won't have to do it anymore. Alright?" _"_But why do we have to do it this time?" _she whimpered, her eyes close to tears. He stopped walking and gazed down at her sadly, now beside the bare table in the kitchen. She whimpered once more, as she was sat on her butt in the middle of the table. He gradually lowered the hand that was around her back until she lay flat against the table's surface. Turning to her legs, he loosened the blankets a bit and slowly moved her legs to be stretched out on the table, feeling her trembling body even through all three. He looked at her face, his eye resting on her tear filled eyes, "Because, Slashera . . . we need to do this correctly. Only then. . ." he fully opened the blankets and she jumped a bit at the sudden rush of air that hit her. He gazing sadly down at the swollen calf muscle on her left leg, with the two large holes surrounded by red skin marring the flesh there before continuing, _"Can you really be better."_

Unable to look at them for very long, he turned to her head and rubbed her forehead. Smiling as best he could, the man tried to reassure the child, "Trust me, Little Slash. This is the last time . . . that's all . . . then you'll feel tons better, alright?" he whispered. The despair in her gaze remained, but she nodded. Turning, he moved to the counter.

Slade frowned, allowing the anti-venom in the vial to flow into the syringe's cavity, watching as it swirled. For three days, he'd been administering it to Slashera. Despite the aid it provided, it was decidedly NOT a fun task for either one. But at least this was the last one, so . . . turning to her, he moved to the table, eyes on the syringe, focusing on only one thing. _Just one more time. That's it. This one more time and we're done._ Clinging to that thought was this was any easier for him. Suddenly a whimper caught his attention. And his eye lifted up to the child's face. As if he'd been shot, Slade seized up with those frightened eyes gazing back at him. . .

_The boy shook, blood all over his left leg as he sat restrained by leather cuffs in the steel chair, eyes alight with fear at the large amount of yellow chemicals in the syringe being held before him. His crystal blue eyes flitted to the needle, every bit of his being shaking with anticipation and fear at the same time. His bare chest heaved with the pain he'd been experiencing in the past hour, now coupled with this new fear. "What is that thing?" he asked in Russian. _

_ And grit his teeth, as a voice far off laughed at him, "Why, just a little experiment, Number 784. But you would know ALL about that, now wouldn't you? What with our corrupt system and all. . ." The syringe moved closer to the boy. Who jerked in his restraints with a snarl, his eyes alight with renewed anger at the snide remark, "DON'T YOU DARE INJECT THAT INTO ME!" he roared. _

_ As the needle got ever closer. . . "THIS IS INHUMANE! AND IF YOU DO THIS, I'LL NEVER SHUT UP! NOT UNTIL THEY ALL TURN AGAINST YOU! YOU MONSTERS!" he threatened. A pale hand reached out and gripped his jaw. "Then perhaps we may need to rip out your tongue when we are finished . . . we would say that squirming intensifies the pain and therefore, advise you against it, but . . . well, I honestly don't care." The syringe was lowered to the boy's thigh, where the red star with the small golden star, hammer, and sickle inside was sewn into his flesh, the numbers 7, 8, and 4 underneath it embroidered into his skin . . . the boy began to writhe and jerk, "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" he roared, pulling angrily at the restraints that wouldn't budge, tears flying down his face despite the rage he portrayed. "YOU'LL ALL PAY!" the needle slammed into his body. He reared his head back in a scream as the fluid was forced into him._

_"F-Father Slade?" _Slashera's worried whimper brought Slade crashing back down to reality. He blinked, his blue eye focusing back on her form on the table. The girl gazed in worry back at him, _"Father Slade, are you . . . are you alright?" _she whispered. He smiled softly at her, "Yes, Little Slash. Thank you for asking . . . now. . ." he moved over and rubbed her forehead once more, moving the needle slowly down to the bite on her leg. _"Calm down, alright? This'll be over in a minute. Remember, this is the last time. Right?" _She nodded slowly, _"Yes sir." "Now be a brave girl for me, okay?" _he murmured, and the needle pricked her skin. The girl's fists clenched, as did her jaw, but other than that she remained relaxed. _"GOOD girl," _he praised, smiling at her, his eye on hers as his hand slowly pushed the anti-venom into her, "_I'm so proud of you,"_ he whispered. And they were done.

He pulled out the needle, and moving to stand beside the table, wrapped his warm hands around her, holding her tight to him, _"I'm so, so proud of you, my Little Slashera." _She snuggled into his embrace wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes fluttering closed as she heaved a sigh.

Hours later found Slade rocking her on the porch, her back in the three blankets, having eaten some grits and a bit of fish after the injection. Her eyes were half lidded as he rocked her back and forth, her legs draped over his left arm with her head resting between his right arm and his chest as the movement lulled her to sleep. Slade heaved a deep sigh, gazing out at the forest beyond. And as she snuggled deeper against him and a hand reached out to rest on his chest, Slade let his mind drift to the past three weeks, blinking as he gazed out at the forest.

Slashera had been progressing at an incredible rate. And not just in her physical fitness. The child had fully adapted to fishing, and would kill the fish she got before Slade could so much as touch the hook! Slade smiled. Just five days ago, she'd reeled in the fish _all _by herself, which was something Slade had been helping her with up until that time, unhooked it, and snapped its neck almost as effortlessly as the man would have itself. Slade couldn't help it. He'd just wrapped his arms around her right then and there, he was so proud. Yes, everything had been going perfectly according to plan, if not better. Slade's smile instantly fell into a frown as one thought rushed back to the forefront of his mind. The one thought that had been dominating his thoughts for the past three days: _She shouldn't have gotten bitten._

_Slashera leapt over the final hurdle. Slade couldn't help but smile. She was decidedly ready for the next part of the training. Running to the next hurdle she spread out her arms and smiled as she took off, sailing high over the hurdle with a foot to spare. He watched with pride as her muscles in her legs ground perfectly together, carrying the strong body over the jump. To land perfectly on the other side . . . her scream ripped through the air before she crumpled to the earth, a loud rattle the only thing accompanying the terrifying sound. That was all Slade needed to know. He was at her side the next second, staring at the girl curled up and sobbing on the ground. And beside her . . . the large eastern diamondback reared its head back further turning to Slade, its tail shaking so fast it was a blur, its fangs out and ready. Some venom still dripped from one of the deadly appendages. Slade glanced at the girl's bite on her leg . . . _

_The snake lunged for his leg as Slade lunged for Slashera. Fangs sank into his leg, causing Slade to grit his teeth at the sharp sting as the snake injected its venom before whipping back as Slade jerked his leg away, the man now holding Slashera in his arms. Slade's crystal eye locked onto the serpent, as his left arm fully supported the child while his right hand clenched around her calf muscle as a temporary way of reducing the vein and artery flow to and from the area wound. She whimpered in his ear, her heavy breathing on his neck causing fury to rise within him at the creature that glared up at him from the earth below. He growled swinging the leg the snake had just bit in a pinwheel motion before crashing it down on the reptile's head, instantly snapping the neck of the thing that had DARED to harm his apprentice. . ._

Slade frowned, pausing in his rocking. _"Father Slade, I'm sorry." _He blinked, staring, as the small whisper interrupted his thoughts. And looked down to find her eyes gazing sadly up at him. He smiled gently at her, "Whatever are you sorry for, Little Slash?" "_For getting bit," _she whispered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes once more. He reached his hand up and brushed them away, "_Shhh, Little Slash. Shhh. . . there's no reason to be sorry, and no reason to cry. It wasn't' anyone's fault that you got bit by that snake. It was just the snake's. It was only an accident. Now go to sleep," _he murmured. She nodded, closed her eyes, and he continued to rock. She was just beginning to drift off when, _"Are we going back out to play tomorrow? I miss it," _she murmured. He smiled, _"Yes, Slashera. We are. And we're going to be having even more fun! There's a new place I want to show you." _She smiled, _"That'll be fun." _He nodded and turning to her, pressed his lips to her forehead, _"Yes. Yes it will be." _She smiled, her eyes having still been closed and he continued to rock her. After he knew she was asleep, he frowned. It was he who was to blame for her getting bit and he knew it. He _should _have been able to see the viper before she'd even gone over the jump! If he hadn't known previously to have the anti-venom at the cabin, just in case . . . he gripped her tighter to his chest. Slashera would have died. It was that simple. All that work, all that time, all that _progress_. Wasted! And he wouldn't have had anyone to blame but himself. . . At that moment, a commotion from down in the forest caught his attention. He blinked, and leaning forward a bit, looked down.

The stag they'd seen weeks ago had been walking with his group of does, fawns, and one of the bucks that they'd seen with the group. Apparently, the stag had been caught off guard by the buck, because the mighty creature was lying on the ground, with the buck advancing on the does and fawns, having worked up enough courage and gotten close enough to the stag to try to take over. At that moment, the stag was back on its feet, and the buck was sailing through the air to slam against a tree from the force of the attack unleashed. For a moment, the buck lay there, but then it began to get up . . . the stag didn't give it a chance. Running again, the thing slammed its horns into the side of the buck on the ground, forcing it even more against the tree. Slade watched as the stag repeated the attack three times, until the buck lay quietly on the ground, blood pouring from a few gashes in its side. Satisfied, the stag turned, and in no time, was leaping through the forest away from the cabin, his does and fawns right behind him. Slade blinked, as the buck, after minutes of motionless waiting, slowly staggered to its feet before walking slowly away. Knowing it was defeated and no longer welcome in the stag's presence. And watching it go, Slade relaxed his grip on Slashera just a bit. With that, he leaned back in the chair and began to rock again. As a small smile formed on his face.

Despite the fact that the stag had let the threat come too close, it had nonetheless driven the threat back and taken back control of the situation and his does. And Slade simply would have to do the same thing. He might have messed up this one time, but he would _not _mess up again. The important thing was that Slashera was alright. _He'd _tended to her ailment, using the anti-venom _he'd _made, and that _he'd _been wise enough to place in the cabin. He'd played his part of the plan far too well to let something as insignificant as a mild snake bite cause him to stumble. Suddenly a vibration from his front pants pocket caught his attention. He blinked and shifted his arm supporting Slashera's back ever so slightly, causing the girl to groan in her sleep and reposition herself a little bit. Pulling out the PDA, he opened his e-mail and gazed down at the new message.

SW,

We are all truly sorry for the setback you encountered with the exhibit, despite the fact that we have come to understand that this is nothing for you to overcome. You will be pleased to know that the sculpture that the staff favors so much has been completed and sent to you. It is being sent with the utmost security and should reach you promptly.

-WW

Slade smirked. _At_ _last_. . .

WW,

It was only a minor setback and was easily handled. The sculpture, I'm sure, will be a magnificent piece in the exhibit.

-SW

Slade pressed the send button. After waiting a moment, a new message flashed across his screen.

SW,

We'd expect no different from you. And I promise you will NOT be disappointed.

-WW

Smirking, Slade laid his head back against the rocking chair once the PDA was pocketed. And as Slashera repositioned herself once more, he let himself fall asleep to the sounds of the forest, once more content, the cool breeze moving gently around him.

*-this is the scientific name for the Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake. I have always had a fear for the Diamondbacks, ever since I was at a kid's camp as a counselor, looked up in a tree, and saw one just right up on the branch above. I had to remain calm and move my kids away from it. I swear my heart stopped.

* * *

A/N: So this was perhaps one of the saddest and hardest chapters for me to write. But it was also a very important one, at least to me. This is because while Slade and Slashera don't do much physically and outside in this chapter, I think it just shows some insight into the emotional and psychological bond forming between the two. I also like how Slade can find messages in nature that seem to fit his situation in ways he might not have realized beforehand. I always love it when I find messages in nature.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Batman.

A/N: Okay, so in this chapter, we're going back out into the woods! YAY!

* * *

Sunlight spilled into the room, landing on the girl lying asleep, once again, in her twin bed. Slashera's eyes scrunched up against the light before she groaned, slowly opening them, and blinked dazedly at the window responsible. She frowned and slowly, looked around at her room. She sat up and moved her legs to hang over the side of the bed. When did she get back in her bed? All she remembered was falling asleep in Slade's arms. As she was pondering her current predicament, the enticing smells of bacon frying /and coffee brewing met her nose. Her stomach gave a hungry growl. Rubbing it and turning her head to the foot of her bed, she caught sight of her jumpsuit, folded up and waiting for her. She grinned. _"Are we going back out to play tomorrow? I miss it," she murmured. He smiled, "Yes, Slashera. We are. And we're going to be having even more fun! There's a new place I want to show you." _Jumping down, she eagerly removed his shirt from her and placed it on the bed before grabbing the two halves of the jumpsuit and pulling them on, sitting on the floor to help herself with the pants, all the while noting that she now felt better than she had in the past three days. Yesterday really was the last time! Once she had the pants and shirt on, she quickly put the Velcro into place and sprinted out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.

Slade blinked, turning his head as he heard her running footsteps, and smiled as he saw Slashera round the corner into the kitchen, moments before her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. Turning back to the pancakes cooking on his griddle and the bacon frying in their pan, he smiled, wearing his jumpsuit as well. "I assume you feel better this morning?" he murmured. He'd been up for most of the night preparing for today, having tucked her in at around 8:00 PM. And was just as excited as she was for today. If not more. "Oh yes, Father Slade!" she said, leaning away and moving to stand beside him, gazing at the food. He smiled, "I see you have your appetite back as well." She smiled and nodded. He smiled right back, "Well, I'm almost done with breakfast. Once we eat, we can head on out. So why not sit down and wait a bit for me to finish cooking?" She grinned and nodded before she walked over to her chair and sat down on the edge of the piece of furniture, watching Slade's back, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet, ready to go. She was tired of being cooped up in the cabin. It was time to go out and play! Slade smiled, turning back to the stove top. This was sure to be a very quick meal. . .

Slashera smiled, head tilted down, skipping as the two traveled along the hilly path, her hand firmly in Slade's as the man walked beside her. Slade glanced down at her and couldn't hide the small smile that crossed his face. He understood her happiness at finally getting out of the house. To actually be able to do something. And _he_ was just happy to see her moving around again. Watching her lying in his bed shivering and unable to move had been just as depressing for him as the experience had been for her. But now she was outside with him again and he was determined to enjoy the day. Turning to face the trail, he smiled upon seeing a bright light breaking through the trees up ahead. "It won't be long now, Little Slash." She smiled, "Father Slade, can we run the rest of the way?" He paused and contemplated what she'd just said . . . he wasn't _entirely_sure how much exertion her body could take right now . . . but it really wasn't that far . . . he smiled, "After you." She laughed and ran full tilt ahead, kicking up the leaves and sticks on the forest floor as she did so. He smiled and took off a few seconds later, jogging lightly behind her and laughing as well.

Slashera stared at the large tarp covered hay bales in the clearing she'd just entered, hearing Slade run up behind her and stop beside her. Targets made up of huge yellow dots surrounded by red and blue rings were painted on each tarp. Off to the side, sat a wooden cart with huge wheels, with a blue and white cooler on top. Laid on the cart beside the cooler was a large sack of pointed sticks beside two curved sticks with their ends tied together by some string. She blinked and turned to the man, "Father Slade, where are we? What are we doing?" He smiled and walking over, motioned her to the cart. She blinked and walked over. He took out one of the pointed sticks and turned to her. She gazed at the object, now noticing the small metal point on one end and the blue and green feathers on the other. The man sat cross-legged on the ground beside the cart. "Tell me, Little Slash. . ." she sat down slowly as he paused before continuing, "Would you like to learn about one of my favorite things to do? It's called 'Archery'."  
She cocked her head to the side, "What's that?" "Archery is a sport, a game that people play," he said, smiling at her, "We take an 'arrow' . . . that's what this is . . ." he held the stick between them, and she gazed at the point inches from her face. And reaching out, touched the tip of it with her finger. Slade smiled. It was a duller point, so that it couldn't hurt her. He handed it over to her waiting hands. The girl blinked down at the object, moving her fingers slowly over its smooth, sanded surface. She turned the point away from her face, so that the feathers faced her, and ran her fingers over them, the things bending and flipping back as she did so. "Those are called the fletching," he announced, and she turned to him. "It's pretty." she replied. He nodded before turning and pointing at one of the hay bales, "It's helpful, too. You see those? The fletching helps us guide the arrow to hit one of those targets." He turned to her and smiled, "Understand so far?"  
She frowned, "Sort of . . . how do we get it over there? That's so far away, Father Slade." He smiled, "That's where this. . ." he leaned over to the cart, which was now slightly taller than him, and reaching around, fumbled a bit before gripping the curve of the larger of the curved sticks tied with the string. And pulled it back, smiling at her, "This is a bow. . . see, we take the bow. . . and the arrow. . ." he took the arrow from her, and she watched as his fingers flawlessly put the arrow into position, with his other hand halfway up the curved stick of the bow, the arrow resting on top of those fingers, the other hand holding the fletching end against the string as he pulled back a bit, "Once we have the arrow into position, we pull it back far enough. . . and then we'll release it. . ." he gritted his teeth, and once he'd pulled back enough he let go, sending the arrow sailing through the air and into a nearby hay bale, right in the center of the yellow circle. He smirked. _Perfect_. He turned to her, smiling, "See?" She grinned, "Father Slade, that's amazing!" "And now, you're going to learn how to do it. How does that sound?" She grinned at him.  
Slade reached into the quiver of arrows and pulled out the long leather bracer with Velcro folds along the inside sides to hold it in place along the arm, a protective leather flap with holes for the fingers sewn into the hand end of it with the leather riding up a bit more on the thumb's hole. Turning to her, he held it out, opening it wide for her, "First, you're going to need to wear this." She frowned, puzzled, but held out her hand. He gently began to move her hand and arm around, sliding the leather to fit snuggly on them, some sheep skin being inside the leather to keep it from chaffing her, "The string on the bow can snap you hard if you're not careful. After a while, it can start to hurt your fingers too. So you're going to wear this to protect you, okay? You may want to wear this one, too." He pulled out another, and slid it on. He smiled at her once that was done, and put her hands between his, "Just to be safe, Little Slash." She smiled up at him, "Thank you, Father Slade."  
"Alright," he took a deep breath moments later, "Take one step back with your right leg. . . yeah, that's my little girl," he said, her holding the handle of the bow in her left hand, him still having the arrow she was to use safe and in his back pocket. "Now, hold this tight," he said, his hand over her bow hand. She nodded, "Yes sir. . ." he smiled, and turning, whisked out his arrow. Then he attempted to quickly position her right hand at the end, her fingers fumbling a bit with the unfamiliar object. The arrow toppled to the ground. She sighed, gazing down at it. Sensing her discomfort, he smiled, and pressed his lips against the side of her head, "It is okay little Slash. It may take a few tries to get used to it. . ." she turned her head a bit towards him and gave him a weak smile. Leaning over her, the man picked up the arrow, "Alright Little Slash, use this finger. . ." he lifted up his index finger. She nodded, holding hers up too as he continued, "To rest on top of the arrow. . . in front of the feathers," she nodded, and moved it to do so with him still holding the arrow up. "Now, put your next two fingers underneath the arrow in front of those feathers. . ." he continued, and she did so. He smiled, "Good girl, now bend the ends of those fingers just a bit. . ." she nodded and did so. He smiled, "Now we hook them onto the string. . ." moving her hand over, he put the string up against the underside of her fingers, "Now curl your thumb and the other finger, the pinky. . ." She nodded and did so. He smiled, and moving his left hand over, rested the arrow on top of the fingers of her bow hand, "Alright, now that will help _aim _the arrow. . . lift it up, and look at what's in front of the arrow. Do you see the middle yellow circle on the target in front of you?"  
She bit her lip, and shook her head. She only saw the top blue ring of the target . . . she voiced this to Slade. He nodded in understanding, and leaning forward, slowly moved her elbow, "Better?" she blinked, "A . . . a bit lower. . ." he nodded, and tilted her elbow up a bit more, tilting the arrow. "That's good," she whispered. Blinking. He smiled, "Now we have to make sure it's a straight line . . . the arrow, I mean, so now let's move your arm down. . ." He moved her arm just in front of the elbow a bit down, so that the object was once again horizontal and parallel to the ground. "Still see the yellow circle?" he asked. She nodded, "Yes, Father Slade. . ." he smiled, "Good . . . now we have to pull back. . ."  
She grunted as he pulled her arm back, the taunt string not wanting to pull back too, "_Father Slade, it hurts a little. . ." _"I know, Little Slash. But it'll get easier over time . . . you need to pull it back until we can't pull it back anymore . . . there we go. . ." she breathed hard, the string so tight she felt it trembling beneath her hand. "Now, move your arrow hand up a bit, to get the arrow off of your bow hand. Just a little," he whispered. She gritted her teeth and did as asked. The arrow shook, tapping against the bow. . . He smiled, "Good girl. Now, let go and move your arrow fingers out away from the arrow. Fast."  
She stared as the string whipped back as soon as her fingers released the arrow, and heard the air whistling slightly as the stick flew through the air. The girl blinked, slowly lowering her arms as it hit the target with a _thump!_ She bit her lip. It had hit the second red ring below the yellow area . . . she'd missed . . . she hung her head, sighing, "I'm sorry, Father Slade." He frowned, blinking, " 'Sorry'? Whatever are you sorry for?" "I wasn't good enough. It didn't hit the target," she mumbled. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, "That wasn't your fault. Hitting the target will come with practice. Look. . ." he took up her bow, knelt down so that he was the same level as her with one knee on the ground, and whipping out an arrow from his other pocket, pulled back quickly and released, only taking about a second to do so. The arrow shot at lightning fast speed to the target, hitting it dead center. She stared and turned to him, "But I. . . I aimed it! Like you said. . ." she sighed, gazing up at him, "Why'd I miss it?" He smiled, "Because of the arrow."  
Slade in no time had taken their arrows out of the bale and was kneeling before her and using her arrow to draw a diagram on the dirt. After drawing a big X and a little X a foot away from the previous, he pointed to the latter, "Okay, Little Slashera, this is you. Okay? And your bow and arrow." She blinked, and nodded. He moved the arrow point to the other X, "And this is the target. Now, you aimed the arrow straight from here. . ." he put the point on the X that represented her and moved it straight across to the center of the big X, "To here. Right?" She frowned, blinking, slowly taking in the diagram. Then nodded, "Alright . . . because I put my bow . . . straight across from the target?" "Right! Precisely!" he praised, "Now, with arrows, they typically dip up a bit, like a hump, and then go down really fast. Especially over distances as far as yours was going . . . see?" he illustrated the stated trajectory path in the dirt. She tilted her head, "Okay. . ." "So it hit the target below where you wanted it to, right?" he said, finishing the path just below the big X. She blinked, "Why?"  
He smiled gently at her, "Slashera, what happens when you fall?" She winced and turned to him, remembering the snake, "I hit the ground. Hard." "Yes, that's right. Because something is _pulling _you to the ground," he held up his open hand as he spoke, and pulled it down in a fist, "Something you can't even see. It's called 'gravity'. It comes up out of the ground, and pulls anything in the air down." She frowned, "I don't like gravity then. It hurts." He smiled, "But the thing is, without it, you and I may just start to float away in the air. Eventually, you'd even float away from me. And we wouldn't be able to do anything about it. And that would _not _be fun. Now would it?" She shook her head quickly, "No, Father Slade, I want to stay with you!" He smiled, "I know. And that's what gravity's for. To keep you here with me, down on the ground. I guess you could say. . . Gravity may like to keep you on the ground a little too much. Understand?" She nodded, "Yes sir." He smiled, "That's my girl. Now," he turned back to the diagram he'd drawn, "At first, the arrow will be going straight, right?" she nodded, blinking down at the diagram. "But then gravity starts to act on it, and begins to pull it down. That's why it curves down, okay?" he said. And looked up at her, "Do you understand?" She turned to him, and nodded, "I understand . . . but what do we do about it?"  
He smiled, "We aim above what we want to hit. Like you were doing, you aim at your target. But just before you release, you lift the bow up a bit. You point the arrow a little higher. That way, since it's higher than the target, when gravity brings it back down, it'll be alright. Right?" She cocked her head to the side. And he saw that while she was following him, she had to catch up a bit. He smiled, "Let me show you. . ." he turned to the diagram, and she did so as well. He took the arrow point, and moved it up from the X, "This is what happens when you tilt it up. Now look . . . it's a bit higher than the straight shot, but at about the time gravity pulls it down. . ." he ended at the center of the big X, "It's a perfect hit." He turned to her, "You understand now?" She blinked at it. Then turned to him, "So since you have it high already, gravity _helps_ you hit the target? By bringing it down?" He smiled and nodded, "Exactly." "How high do you have to get it?" she asked. He gave her a weaker smile, "That, Slashera, is the reason we practice. You see, I can't really tell you how to perfectly aim it. You have to keep shooting the arrow to keep getting better, until finally, you find the right way to tilt it for yourself. Okay?" She blinked at him, then smiled, "THEN LET'S GET STARTED!" she said, standing straighter and giving a little hop before turning and rushing over to her bow which still lay where she'd left it. Slade chuckled and went to the cart to get the quiver.  
As he walked back to the waiting child, Slade contemplated their little lesson in archery. Slade had known that Slashera would miss the first time. He also knew that normally he would have forewarned her. But he also knew that merely being able to shoot the arrow took a lot of steps to learn at once. Therefore, he also knew that introducing her first to that, then having her shoot the arrow, and _then _showing and explaining to her the trajectory the arrow would take was the best way to teach her both. That way, he could be sure she would remember _both_, rather than trying to learn the second before she'd even completed the first. He smiled as he reached her and handed her an arrow. She fumbled with it, but it didn't fall this time and she slowly set it in the bow string. He smiled and knelt behind her, his arms wrapped around her to help her pull her arm back. Slashera took a deep breath and lifted her bow a bit higher. She released her breath as she released the arrow.  
About two hours later, her arrow sang through the air, and struck the red ring just below the yellow target. Slade smiled and stood up, walking over to grab the arrow. As he did so, he glanced at the holes in the target above and below the yellow circle. She was getting closer. That was for sure. "Good work, Little Slash. I'm proud." She gave a weak smile, but rubbed her arms. They were getting a bit sore . . . he turned, blinking as he caught sight of what she was doing before she moved her arms away. She smiled at him, as if trying to make him think she hadn't been doing that at all. He walked over, blinking down at her, "Little Slash, how are you feeling?" he asked, twirling the arrow in his hands slowly. She looked up at him, "My arms . . . hurt a little bit." Slade smiled down at her, "They're sore?" She nodded. "Then I think it's time to take a break for a few minutes," he said, before turning and walking to the cart, "Come with me, Little Slash." She smiled and ran over.  
In no time, he had tilted a gallon jug from the cooler to her lips, and she gulped down the water within, the two sitting cross-legged on the ground beside the cart once again. Pulling the jug back he smiled at her, "Tell me, Little Slash. Are you enjoying yourself today?" he said, taking a sip himself. She nodded quickly, grinning. "Yes sir! Archery's fun!" It was true. Despite all the hard work it entailed, she loved feeling the string vibrate beneath her fingers as he helped her pull back. To her, it was like it was alive. And when she let go . . . she loved watching the arrow, _her_ arrow, shoot into the air. She only wished she could get the target right.  
"Did you come up with it?" she asked as the question ran across her mind. He smiled and shook his head, "No. Archery's a bit older than me, Little Slash." She blinked, "Then who came up with it?" He smiled, "Oh, some people from very, _very_ long ago. Do you remember the Bolsheviks? Or Karl Marx?" She nodded. He smiled even more at her ability to recall both, "Archery was made _before _they were even _born_. By some of the first people to ever live." She stared at him, "Archery's that _old?_" He nodded, and sat the gallon down between them. They sat in silence, and then she had another question, "Did they use it to hit targets then too?"  
He chuckled and shook his head, "No. I highly doubt that they had time to shoot at targets all day, Little Slash. They made bows and arrows to go fishing with," he said with a smile. She stared. "Fishing?" "Yes. They would tie a rope, to where the feathers are on the arrow and fire the arrow into the water. Like when you put your line out into the water? And it would shoot straight through the fish. Then, the people holding the end of the string would pull the fish back to them. The reason was that they didn't have fishing rods back then. They had to use bows and arrows," he said, "What they did we now call _'Bowfishing'_." She blinked, and cocked her head to the side, "Are . . . are we going to use them to get fish too?" she said slowly . . . she wasn't all too thrilled about using the bow and arrow for that. . .  
He chuckled, "Now why would we do that? Shooting an arrow into a fish is a lot harder than tossing out a line in the water. You see, the hook just sits in the water and waits for a fish. With an arrow, you have to see the fish and hit it right then. But the water distorts the image . . . see?" he held up the jug a little away from them, and turned to it, "Look at the target through it." She looked, and saw. The target was clearly messed up, and always seemed to move. . . "Now, can you _imagine_ trying to shoot _that_ for food?" he asked and then a thoughtful smile crossed his face, "I guess they would have to use a lot of targets, wouldn't they?" She nodded slowly, and turned to him. "They had to aim really good, didn't they Father Slade?" He nodded, "Yes. And someday, you'll be able to aim that well too. . ." he caught the fear in her eyes at the aspect of Bowfishing and quickly added, "But, like I said, we won't use the bow and arrow for fishing. I promise." _Because we'll be using it to get much LARGER prey . . ._ She grinned and after he'd given her another drink from the jug, the two stood and went back over to continue practicing.  
An hour and a half later, Slade walked over and took out the five arrows sticking out of the hay bale. The child hadn't been able to hit the yellow yet but she was getting more accurate. "Alright, Little Slash, let's stop this for today and have some lunch." He turned to find the girl frowning back at him with a sad look in her onyx eyes. He smiled, "Don't worry. We'll do some more archery tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that. Soon, you'll be shooting and hitting your target just like me!" She gave him a weak smile and as the man turned, the girl followed him to the cart. Truth be told, that wasn't why she was sad.  
This happened every day when they were outside. They'd work out, or in this case do archery, until lunch. Then they'd go fishing. She was getting better at fishing, killing the fish quicker and quicker each time. And Slade was definitely getting prouder and prouder with each kill. But that didn't mean she felt any better about the whole activity. She still couldn't stand seeing their eyes. That was half the reason she was so quick about it, so she could cover them up and _snap!_ Then she'd be done with the head, and just focus on the body of the fish. But even though she didn't like it, she knew she'd do it just to make Slade happy with her, and so she put on a smile as he turned to her, took off her bracers, and slid them off her hands, "I have some lunch out here for us to eat today, Little Slash. . . but first. . ." he pulled out another gallon jug and uncapped it, handing her a bar of soap from one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit, "We need to wash up." In no time, he poured the water over her hands, paused as she got them all soapy, and then poured almost the rest of the jug over them to wash that off. Turning to her, he smiled, and sloshed some water on her head, "There we go," he said in a joking tone. She laughed and brushed a hand over the beads of water running down her face. As he quickly cleaned his own hands and turned to the cooler, pulling out two tinfoil squares from the used-to-be-ice water in the compartment. Handing one to Slashera, he used another hand to pull out the last jug of water that the thing contained. With that, they sat cross legged on the ground and unwrapped the sandwiches: roast beef, Swiss cheese, and mayonnaise on wheat.  
They'd eaten in almost complete silence for a few minutes, with Slashera asking for water every few minutes. As she was finishing up her sandwich, Slade spoke, already done with his, "Slashera, did you ever play hide and seek? You know, with your mother?" he asked, blinking at her with his crystal blue eye. She nodded, a small smile playing on her face, "Yes Father Slade, I . . ." her face fell, remembering the times when she'd hide behind the couch and wait for Eleanor to come get her, only to run squealing into the kitchen to hide under the table while her mother looked some more. She gazed sadly at the little bit of sandwich left in the tinfoil she held, "Yes, I did. . ." she said quietly, leaning down and eating it slowly. Slade took the tinfoil up and rolled it into a ball before putting it in the cooler and picking up the water jug. Uncapping it, he took a swallow of water, "Did you enjoy it?" he asked, and turned it to her. She tilted her head back and gulped down some more. As he recapped the container, she sighed and whispered,_ "Yes."_  
He smiled weakly at the child. He knew it was hard for her to think about her mother, "How would you like to play it? For the rest of the day? With me?" She lifted her head, and stared at him, "Really?" He smiled, and nodded. She grinned, "That'll be so much fun!" she squealed and clapped her hands in excitement. With that, the child jumped up, grinning down at him, "So who gets to hide first?!" Slade laughed and stood up, smiling down at her, "Hold on now Slashera. . . we're not playing like that." She frowned, "What? How are we going to play then?" "We're going to play _animal _hide-and-seek. We'll be looking for the animals where they are hiding." She blinked, and cocked her head, "We're playing . . . with animals?" "Yes," he nodded firmly, "With bunnies, and deer, and foxes, and raccoons . . . It'll be fun!" She smiled at him. It _did_ sound like fun . . . even though she had no idea what "foxes" or "raccoons" were . . . she frowned, "How are we going to do it?" "With this," he pulled a small white book out of his pocket and held it up, "What we're going to do is called '_tracking' _the animals. Based on their footprints, or in this case paw prints, among other things. We just find some of their prints on a trail and follow it. We'll use this book to know which animal we're looking for. Are you ready?" She blinked then smiled even wider than before, "OKAY! LET'S GO!" He smiled and took her outstretched hand. As soon as Slade had closed the cooler and pocketed the book to hold the water jug in his other hand, the two turned and rushed off into the woods.  
Twenty minutes later found Slade and Slashera both looking at the ground looking for prints, the man kicking leaves a bit to get them out of the two's way. With no luck. Slashera sighed. She'd thought they'd find some by now. . . "Look, Slashera, I found one," Slade suddenly said, kneeling down and tugging her down with him. She blinked at the imprint in the dirt. It looked like a long dip in the ground with one end bigger than the other, almost like a human foot, with four little humps at the larger end. She blinked and tilted her head, "What is it Father Slade?" "This is when we look in the book . . . see? Here we are. . ." he held open a page after flipping through it, and showed her a long chart, with various paw prints on it with names beneath them for the animals they belonged to. . . she stared at it. How were they supposed to find the print in front of them here? "There it is. See?" he said quickly. And pointed to one. She looked at it and nodded, "Yes sir." It _did _look like the print on the ground. She turned to a smaller blotch beside it, "What's that?" It looked like a little circle, but with four little humps on it too. Slade blinked, "Oh, that . . . you see, the long one is the animal's back paw print. The other smaller one is the animal's front paw print. And see? It's right here. . ." he pushed some leaves away and there it was. A perfect match. At that moment, Slashera noticed another set of paw prints beside the ones they'd just found. She turned to him, "What animal is it?" He smiled and pointed to the name beneath the prints, "A Cottontail Rabbit. See? That's what it says." She took a hard look at it. She'd seen "cotton" before, and "tail". And despite never seeing "rabbit" before, she could assume that was what that word was. She turned back to him and smiled, "What now?" "Now we decide whether we're going to 'seek' the 'hiding' rabbit or not," he said with a smile. She blinked, frowning, "We . . . decide?"  
"Yes, you see. . ." he leaned forward, and touched the print, "This right here, this is fresh. Because it's not been changed by the trail hardly at all. It looks just like the picture. But watch what I do to it now. . ." he swept his palm over the print, and she stared, as the dirt ran over it and messed it up, "You see how different it looks when something goes over it? If the print looks a lot like this, then we know that it's been a little while since it was made. But since it looked more like this. . ." he pointed to the untouched print beside the messed up one, "We know the rabbit made this only a little while ago. Understand? Nothing's had time to come along and mess it up, except for us." She turned to him, and nodded, "Okay. So if the print looks brand new, we follow it?" He smiled, and nodded, "Absolutely." "How?" He turned, and smiled, using his arm to brush back more leaves. She stared at the long line of prints it revealed. "We follow the rest until we find the rabbit that made them. Let's go! And don't take your eyes off the trail!" he said excitedly and the two stood to walk slowly down the trail, Slashera's eyes never leaving the prints that Slade revealed with his foot from beneath the leaves every step of the way.  
They'd been going for about ten minutes when Slashera frowned, "What's that?" she asked, pointing at something between two long prints. Slade leaned down to see better, and smiled, "That's the rabbit's feces. Or its poop." She stared up at him, "It's . . . poop?" "Well, with animals, it's known as 'scat' as well, but I prefer the term 'feces'," he gave her a wry smile, then turned, and leaned down. He looked at the poop for another minute before he pulled a knife wrapped in a small white cloth out of the depths of his jumpsuit pockets and scooped the pellets via the knife into said cloth. Standing back up, he held the pellets between them and taking one finger, hovered pointed at one, "This pellet can tell us a good deal about how fresh these tracks are. Look. . ." he took his knife and pressed down on the pellet with the side of the silver utensil. And Slashera cringed slightly at the sight of the poop smearing onto the cloth. . . "You see how easy it smeared? It didn't crumble or anything. That means it didn't have time to dry. Which means that we are getting really close." He looked up at her at that and saw the disgust on her face. He sighed and rested a hand on a hip, keeping the knife in the cloth with the poop, "Now come on, little Slash, _you and I _use the bathroom out here too when we need to . . . besides, this gives us a good way to play the game with the rabbit!" She looked up at him, and sighed, "I . . . I know," she whispered. He smiled and folded the cloth up around the knife and slid it back into his jumpsuit, "I'm glad you noticed it, Slashera, because that means we're even closer to finding the rabbit." That got her to smile at him. After all, he was proud of her! All thoughts of how the poop was disgusting flew out of her mind. He smiled and took her hand, still having no poop on his own. Turning back to the trail the two continued their search.  
"Oh, Father Slade, it's beautiful!" she gasped, the two standing behind two bushes lining the trail, beneath which the tracks had disappeared. They'd just found the creator of the prints. . . the small rabbit was grey and brown in color, his pretty white tail poking out from beneath him as he munched on a blade of grass on the ground. Hearing her, the rabbit turned, nose twitching, ears alert, staring at the two with its beady black eyes. The creature lifted itself slowly up onto its back legs to stand up straight. "Hi. . ." she paused and turned to Slade, "He doesn't have a name . . . how can I say hi to him if he doesn't have a name?" Slade turned to her, caught off guard by the odd comment, then smiled, "Then why don't you name it?" She blinked, and then turned to the rabbit. What _would_ she name it? She smiled suddenly as the rabbit's little white tail twitched. "Hi, Cottonball! Sorry we found you, but you're a really good hider any way!" she said with a grinned. After she'd spoken that time, the rabbit whisked around on its haunches and bounded away into the woods. She frowned, "It went away." "It might have had a little baby to look after," he said with a smile and hugged her tight before pulling away a bit, "Besides, they don't talk much. They're not used to it." She frowned, "Oh . . . do you think it felt bad? That it thought it couldn't talk to me?" "Perhaps," Slade said with a smile, closing his eye. "I . . . I didn't hurt its feelings, did I?" she suddenly whispered, worry entering her voice. He blinked down at the girl. And now the man saw the tears in her eyes. "Of course not Little Slash! But. . . if it'll make you feel any better, you can always talk a bit lower to them next time," he advised, "They have great hearing, and will be able to know what you say just fine." She smiled, "Then let's find another animal!" He smiled, "Alright." With that the two returned to the trail they were on.  
After spending two more hours finding two more rabbits and one raccoon, "Max", "Dolly", and "Rings" respectively, Slade was beginning to think they'd never find the tracks he truly wanted to find that day. Just as he was about to offer that they turn back, Slashera spoke up, "What're those prints from?!" she gasped. He blinked, and knelt down. And smiled. It was as if they'd appeared just for him. Two long ovals with two large ends and two small ends, curved towards one another at the smaller ends, coming to form a point of sorts at the top. The print was deeply imprinted in the earth by far more weight than a rabbit or other creature of the forest. Beside it lay another beautiful set of imprints. He smiled, "That, dear Little Slash, are the prints of a deer. And they're fresh." She turned to him, smiling. Sensing his excitement, "We're going to find it, aren't we?!" she gasped, grinning at him. He turned to her, smirked, and nodded, "Of course we are."  
Finding the deer took far longer than the other four animals, and as the tracks ended at the edge of a small, shallow stream she sighed, gazing around for new tracks, "They're gone. . ." she whispered. He frowned, "No animal disappears, Little Slash. You should know that." "But . . . but the tracks . . . they're gone . . ." she said, looking up at him. He shook his head at her and his boots splashed as he began to walk through the water. He turned his head to her and blinked back at her, "Look at how they're pointed. They point to the water. That means that the deer went in here. . ." She blinked and gazed down at the prints once again. He was right. . . She looked up at him as he continued to walk to the other side and she sighed. He wasn't waiting on her it seemed . . . she got in and shivered as water sloshed into her shoes. Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly over, swaying a bit to keep balanced. Once she was close enough she reached out, and he held her hand tight. He smiled at her, "Good job. Coming across the stream after me. Next time though, wait for me to come back for you. So you can't fall in. Okay?" she blinked, staring up at him. She'd thought he'd wanted her to. . . he smiled at her, aware of her confusion, "I was going to see if there were any prints here first. . ." he pointed to the creek bed beside him with a frown, "But there aren't any. . ." She shivered slightly, the cold water getting to her as it sloshed around in her shoes and at her ankles, "S-s-so what now?" "Well, first we get out of this water," he said, smiling at her, and the two quickly climbed onto the creek bed.  
Once he'd taken her shoes off, gotten the water out of them, and then put them back on her, Slashera turned to him, "What now?" "Now we follow the stream. The deer had to have come out on this side. So first we'll walk downstream," he pointed in the appropriate direction, "That means we're going in the direction that the water's flowing," he turned and pointed in another direction, "And then if we don't see something downstream, we'll go upstream a ways." He turned to her and smiled, "Ready?" she smiled and nodded, grasping his hand even tighter.  
Luckily, they found the tracks quickly, the deer having moved downstream. The tracks went off into a small, deer path in the woods. He pulled her closer to his side, frowning at the trail, "Little Slash, you need to walk ahead of me. . . I don't want you behind me. . ." he muttered, "And there's not enough room beside me for you to not get hurt by the bushes." Slashera nodded and in no time was walking slowly in front of Slade, the man's hands on her shoulders. The child stared down at the ground, him still stopping every once and a while to walk ahead and move some leaves away from the trail to reveal more prints. He turned his head and looked at the forest around them, "This path is so narrow . . . do you know what that means?" he asked her. She shook her head. "That means the deer is small. Otherwise it would have made a larger trail. So it must be either a doe or a small buck. A larger buck would have had more antlers or horns. It would have made more room merely with those," he whispered. Slashera nodded. That made sense. It was then that the prints curved to the right, through some bushes that looked dented on the top. As if the deer had stepped over them. Slade blinked at them. "I'm going to lift you up and over them, Little Slash. Okay?" She nodded and he picked her up around her waist before hoisting her over the bushes. She turned around and watched as he marched over the bush. He smiled down at her as she blinked up at him. "Go on," he said, nodding in the general direction the path now led to. She nodded and they continued quietly along.  
Slashera took a deep breath, gazing at the creature in the clearing just a bush beyond. The doe grazed quietly in the clearing, a few other does gathered around her. _The doe closest to us is clearly the youngest of the group. Apparently, it wandered off from the group. Then followed their scents back to this spot. _At least, that's what Slade assumed. Slashera smiled. _"We found her," _she whispered. The girl gripped Slade's hand. Slade leaned down and smiled, kissing her lightly on her hair, "And what do you want to name her, Slashera?" "Can I name her. . . Beauty?" Slashera whispered, "She's so pretty. . ." He smiled, "I think 'Beauty' is a great name for her, Little Slash." At that moment a light breeze whipped through the trees behind them and into the clearing. Lifting her head, the doe turned to them, having caught their scent on the breeze. And twitched before. . . turning, she sprang to life, her muscles moving in perfect rhythm as she left, her friends right behind her. Slashera let out a sigh, smiling nonetheless. "_I think it's time to head back to the cabin now," _Slade whispered, _"We're pretty far away."_ She nodded, "Yes sir. . ." Turning, the two crept back the way they came.  
It was as they came out of the forest and onto the stream's shore that she yawned, her eyes closing, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Slade blinked, frowning at her as her eyes became half lidded, "Are you okay, Little Slash?" She nodded, smiling up at him, "Yes sir, Father Slade. Let's go." He nodded, took her hand, and they continued their walk, upstream.  
As they neared where they were to cross, Slade couldn't help but notice her steps getting slower as she got sleepier and sleepier. He'd been wondering how much his apprentice could take after three days of bed rest and antivenom injections as her body fought the snake bite's effects. And now she was finally feeling the effects of it all. "You're sleepy Slashera, aren't you?" he murmured, smiling at her. She turned to him "Just a little bit," she replied with a little smile, "I can still go. . ." she was cut off by another yawn, and reaching up, the child covered her mouth. He chuckled and shook his head, "Maybe so, but a nap couldn't hurt, now could it?" leaning down, he put one arm, his right, behind her knees, and the other arm against her back, "How about I carry you back? You can nap then, and when we get to the cabin, I can fix us something to eat." She smiled sleepily at him, and allowed herself to be picked up to be cradled close to his chest. She let out a deep sigh and in no time, was fast asleep and leaning against his chest just over his heart as he moved slowly through the trees of the forest.

After going back to the clearing that they'd been at that morning and getting the cooler, Slade headed back to the cabin where he woke her up only slightly while he sat her on the couch, pulling a deer skin around her as she fell right back to sleep. Then the man set to work getting some venison from his smokehouse and quickly preparing two tenderloins of meat for them to eat. To finish off the meal, he made some creamy mashed potatoes and butter beans. After the supper was ready he had her eat the meal and drink some milk before picking her up again, this time from her chair at the table. The man carried her back to her bathroom, quickly helping her out of her jumpsuit and into the bathtub. Once she was clean he had her brush her teeth, her eyes closed in her half asleep state. Next he put her in one of his muscle shirts, a dark blue one, before moving her to her bed and tucking her. He smiled at her dozing form on the bed, the blankets and sheets covering her up to her chin. Reaching down, the man ran a hand along her cheek.  
Today had been a good day. There was no doubt about it. And tomorrow would be even better. With that final thought, he grinned, leaned over, and with a tug on the chain for the object turned off the lamp before turning and walking to her doorway, the hall light the only light in the room. Ready to go out and get the cart with the arrows and bows. He knew that they couldn't stay outside all night long. At least not with a tarp on top of them . . . maybe he'd just do that . . . take a tarp and put it on top of the thing. . . "_G'night, Father Slade," _her whisper brought him out of his train of thought. He turned, and smiled at her, as she gazed back at him with a sleepy smile on her face, his face outlined in golden light of the hall lights. He smiled and gripping the door handle, began to pull it closed, "_Good Night, my Little Slashera." "I had fun today," _she said, smiling sleepily at him. He smiled right back, "_I did too." "Can we do archery and play hide and seek with the animals tomorrow too?" _she asked, blinking up at him. About to fall back asleep in a minute. He smiled, _"Of course. But right now, get some sleep." _He closed the door as she closed her eyes. Snuggling deeper into the sheets, curling up, Slashera let a smile cross her face. She couldn't wait.

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A/N: So two new things this chapter: Archery (which is easily my favorite "athletic" thing to watch besides sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat) and "Hide-and-Seek" with animals. And of course, Slade can't resist a little history lesson. ;) (You know, I really think I would have understood gravitational forces (not that that was too hard for me to begin with, but still. . .) and history a lot better if he had taught it to me. . . ). And by the way, I looked up bowfishing on Wikipedia.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or Batman. Or . . . the **_**Runaway Bunny.**_

**A/N: Okay, so first off I want to thank anyone who is reading this story for reading it. I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter!**

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The ten puppies lay on the wooden porch, their flopped over ears twitching just slightly as they dozed, their eyes watching their brother as he ran across the yard. The chocolate lab chased the butterfly around the yard, outlasting all of his brothers and sisters in determination and energy. He was going to catch this invader! Then probably let it go and play with it some more! He watched as the orange wings flapped just a foot from his nose, and leapt high into the air from the grassy ground of the yard, snapping his jaws to get the insect. The thing dove just outside of his reach, higher into the air, and turning, fluttered on over the high wooden fence of the yard and out of sight. The pup barked in frustration and leapt up, putting his front paws on the plank of wood nearest him, wagging his tail. Why did it leave?! Didn't it want to play? Perhaps it didn't know the pup couldn't go any further. The pup's barking filled the air for the next few minutes, as it strove to tell its playmate it wasn't able to follow. When the insect didn't come back, the pup gave a sigh of resignation, turned, and with a motionless, drooping tail, returned to where the rest of its mother's litter lay dozing on the porch. Hopping up the stairs leading to the small porch of the small white wooden house, he flopped down between his eldest brother and sister and laid his head down with a sigh.

The pup was just about asleep, when something new whisked across its path. A shining yellow thing! It wasn't like his previous playmate, but it sure was pretty! He watched as it swirled and flipped in the air, him now standing up beside his sound asleep siblings, and watched as it moved through the air across his yard. Towards the fence at the other end of the yard . . . the pup darted across the grass, his barking waking his brothers and sisters up once more, chasing his new friend across the yard. Sadly, this friend too went over the fence, and he once more stood at the fence and barked for it to come back. When yet again there was no return of his playmate, he sighed, and turned to return to the porch. And stared, as yet another breeze swept in with even more friends! Browns, reds, oranges, yellows! Even greens! All of them swirled and danced in the air before him. His tail wagged once more, and the pup rushed into the leaves, leaping up into the air, barking at his new friends. Until once again, the breeze carried them up over the fence and away.

The cool autumn breeze swept through the rather small town of homes and shops, and then into the forest just beyond. With the grace of a swan, the breeze began to move up and under branches and around thick trunks. It continued along its trek until it finally came out into a large clearing. Seeing the woods on the other side of the open space and deciding to continue its journey there, the breeze sped across the large field until . . . the arrow's point shattered the breeze into millions of tiny tatters of what it once was. The arrow sang through the air, to end up sticking inside the yellow ring of the target just outside of the central target circle, its blue and silver feathers fluttering slightly in the air.

Slashera frowned hard at the arrow as she lowered her bow, parts of the large breeze now swooping back to move some strands of hair out of her long braid, her jumpsuit insulated just enough to keep her warm against the cool fall weather. Slade frowned, blinking, off to the side in his own jumpsuit. The man had his arms folded before him as he looked at the target. But before he said anything, she spoke. "_I missed." _she muttered, glaring hard at it. At that moment, Slade moved forward, and so did she. They marched over to the target bale. Upon reaching it, he replied, "Yes, but it wasn't your fault, Little Slash. Over the past few days you have gotten better and better at making your shot hit the appropriate target. And up until now, today you have not gotten outside of the prescribed circle. . ." he fingered the many holes on the center circle, emphasizing his point. She frowned hard up at him, "But I didn't hit the target this time. . ." "And that was not your fault. You've perfected your form and are able to hit your target square on. It was the breeze that unsettled it just a little bit . . . Besides, it's still close to the circle. Only about an inch away. . ." he murmured, and gripping the arrow in question, yanked it out. And turned to her, "But there is one way to make sure that doesn't happen again. . ." She frowned up at him. "How?"

"Little breezes like that may be hard to monitor, but you can kind of tell what the wind's doing that day by simply keeping an eye on it. . . here, look. . ." he took a strand of her bangs, and let it fall in front of her face. "Watch it," he ordered. She blinked, and cross-eyed, did so. And saw it faintly moving to the left. "You see? You can tell where the wind's most likely to blow today this way. Okay Slashera? After that, you can modify where you aim your arrow. In this case, you would need to just aim a bit more to the right. That way, if it blows you'll be ready. And if it doesn't, you'll still be in the target area. Okay?" She blinked, slowly taking it in, then, "It's like before with gravity then . . . where you aim a bit higher, so that the gravity pulls it down to the right height . . . only this time we aim to the right so that the wind'll pull it to the left. . . and be at the right point. . ." "Precisely!" he said with a smile, "And if the wind is blowing to the right?" She frowned up at him, thinking for a minute, then, "We aim to the left." He smiled, "And let's see if you know what to do if it's a stronger wind?" She blinked, "You put it more to the left? Or to the right?" she quickly added. "That's correct. Of course, knowing how much more you need to point it in either direction will come with time, just like aiming for the target. Ready to continue?" he asked, and she smiled, nodding, and the two jogged back over to the starting position. And, keeping an eye on her one strand of hair, Slashera settled the arrow against the bow string, pulled back, and released. And singing through the air once more, it hit the target. She smiled. Square on.

Slade blinked and watched as the girl reached to the quiver sticking up from the ground in its holder and reloaded another arrow. She frowned, pulled back quickly, and released. For the past three weeks, they'd been out here, practicing. And for the past three weeks, she'd been getting better and better. After the first week and a half, she'd been able to load and fire the arrows without any help, and over the last week and a half, she'd been working hard to perfect her shot. After archery in the morning, each afternoon they would do one of three things: a bit of training, tracking, or fishing.

Through the training, he'd been sure to continue with the hurdles, the tree exercises, and now even lunges and jogging through the woods. Through that, he'd made sure that her arms _and _legs were constantly built up. Just because he was focusing on archery, and therefore her arms, that did _not _mean he'd let her training slip up in other areas. He knew very well the law of "Use it or Lose it", and he simply had no time for Slashera to lose any muscle she'd gained.

After training for one afternoon, the next afternoon would be spent tracking. Slashera was the main one who tracked down the animals now, using her own fish gutting knives to check the feces. Recently, Slade had also gotten her to where she would watch the animal she had tracked for minutes, focusing on the muscles. The man would then ask her to predict when it was about to walk, leap, or run away, and which direction it was about to go. He'd found that she had a lot of fun guessing what the animal would do. It was a challenge, a game, and she constantly strove harder and harder to guess correctly. That would be useful later on.

On each third day, he'd take her fishing. The process she had to perform in order to clean the fish was more or less done involuntarily now. To Slade, that was definitely some good news. Lately, she'd been killing and cleaning them so fast that he sometimes wondered if she lost track of all the fish she'd caught. However, whenever he'd ask her how many she'd cleaned, she'd give him an answer, the right answer, without even having to look at the dead bodies chilling in the cooler. However, he was still finding that he enjoyed the entire process far more than she did, and that was somewhat of a concern. He'd thought for sure she'd learn to like it by now. Still, she'd made excellent progress in all other areas of her training he decided, and watching as she continued to fire arrow after arrow, blinking with each release, her eyes still on her single strand of hair, he smiled. _I can afford for a little setback . . . for now._

As soon as the entire quiver was empty, the two walked over to the target again. Even though they were not all in the same spot, all of the arrows were within the same center ring. He smiled, "Excellent work, Little Slash. You've gotten good. How many breezes were there?" "Six, Father Slade," she replied quickly. He smiled, "Good girl." He pulled out all twelve arrows and turned to her, "And you got them all on the target. You adapted to aiming despite the wind. And you were able to do that a _lot _faster than I expected." She smiled at him as the sense of pride rushed through her. Oh how she loved it when he complimented her! He smiled at her for a moment longer, then glanced up at the sun, which was now almost in the center of the sky. "I suppose we have time for one speed drill, and then we may need to eat." Her grin grew even wider.

She flexed her fingers, blinking at the target. It was so quiet in the clearing now that one could hear a small bird moving through the grass at the edge of the forest. "Alright, Little Slash . . . remember, three at a time. . ." Slade murmured, and held up a stop watch, blinking at the device. He glanced at her, "Are you ready? Do you feel confident with your aiming?" She nodded, her eyes fixed on the center circle. Her hand clenched harder around the bow. "Okay . . . one. . ." she blinked, and lowered her hand slightly, to feel the feathers only centimeters from her fingertips. She curled her fingers back a bit . . . she couldn't pick the arrows up yet. . . "Two. . ." she put one foot back, resting some of her weight on it, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out as she felt the energy rushing through her as it always did. . . "THREE!" he said, and hit the button.

As fast as lightning, Slashera grabbed the arrow nearest her fingertips and quickly set it, setting it loose to fly right at the target. Not even pausing to see if it had made it to the desired circle, the girl let her hand swoop down again and grab the next arrow, releasing that one as well. It had barely left her bow before she grabbed the next and shot it. And then, she stopped, freezing up, holding her breath. He smiled as he pressed the button when the last arrow hit the target. "Twelve seconds. Impressive," he remarked, blinking, "And all on the target?" She blinked, and her eyes focused on the circle, "Yes, Father Slade." "Good job. Ready four round 2?" he asked, already knowing her answer. Tensing slightly in anticipation, the girl nodded.

Over the next minute and a half, she continued to shoot the last three sets of three arrows. Her fastest time had been 11.5 seconds, and her other times were 15 seconds and 12.5 seconds. The quickest had been the final round. She gazed at the twelve arrows sticking in the target circle, then turned to him, and gave him a smile, "Your turn?" he smiled, nodded, and handing her the stop watch, picked up his own quiver of twelve arrows and his bow from the ground nearby. Slinging the quiver over his shoulder, the older man moved to stand where she had been, setting up his quiver in the small cup shaped stand attached via a stake to the ground, right where her quiver had been seconds before. "Ready?" he asked, blinking. She nodded. "Alright. . . count me off then, Little Slash," he breathed, hunching slightly, his fingers flexing, his eye only on the target. She readied her finger over the highly sensitive start/stop button of the stopwatch, "One. . ." He smiled, and leaned forward. He didn't care if anyone called him a narcissist. He was proud to show off his skills every now and again. . . "Two. . ." _And as long as I set a high goal for Slashera to strive for, it isn't all that bad . . . is it?_ "Three!"

_GO!_ He smirked as the word reverberated in his mind, and wrenching up the first arrow, fired it. In a flash, the next was sailing through the air as the man moved as quick as the speed of light, launching the last at the target. "TIME!" he gasped. Slashera quickly pressed the button. He turned to her, and blinked down at her, "Read off my time, Little Slash." She blinked down at it, "9.5. . ." He nodded, eye closing and opening, "It took you about a quarter of a second to press it after I said 'time'. . . that's half of .5 . . . Do you remember what decimal that is?" She blinked, ".25?" he nodded, eye opening, "So what's my time really?" She blinked, and thought for a moment, "9.25 seconds?" He smiled, "Good girl. I'm proud of you. . ." he turned and faced the target again. She gritted her teeth, and put her finger just millimeters above the button. She had to be quicker next time! He blinked, "Ready?" This part of the speed drills was just as much about her reflexes as it was about how fast he could shoot the arrows. "One. . ." she began, nodding.

Ten minutes later, they were both halfway through their ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mustard and mayonnaise sandwiches, the two occasionally drinking some water from the gallon jug they'd brought with them. Slade's time had slightly deviated from 9.25 seconds, to 9 seconds, to 9.5 seconds, and finally, to 9.30 seconds. All the while, Slashera had become quicker and quicker about pressing the button. Slade frowned, studying her with his calculating blue eye for a moment, munching silently on his sandwich. Then the man decided to ask her a question, "Slashera what do you think about when you're doing a speed drill?" She lifted her head and gazed at him before turning and frowning down at her sandwich. . . "I guess . . . to be faster every time?" "Hmmm, but do you think of actually shooting the arrow? Of aiming it?" he asked, blinking. She frowned down at her sandwich, and shook her head, "No, Father Slade." "And yet you hit the target every time. Why do you think that is?" he asked quickly. The question caused the child to ponder quite a bit, before she turned back to him, "I . . . I guess I've practiced aiming it so much, I don't really have to. . . think . . . about it . . ." she said slowly, clearly unsure as to the real reason. He smiled, "That's precisely what's going on. And I couldn't be prouder. You've worked really hard to learn how to aim properly. Now you're at the point where you don't really have to think about it anymore. That is why you're able to fire quickly without having to focus on aiming and are still able to make your target." She smiled back, "Then I'm happy I can make you proud, Father Slade!" He grinned, "Then let's finish up here and get to tracking some animals!" Quickly finishing the last of his sandwich he stood up and grabbed the two quivers and bows. She frowned, blinking up at him, and he smiled back, "I just figured that if we don't have to come back by here on our way home, we can spend more time tracking." She smiled, finished her sandwich as well, and in no time the two marched into the forest.

Slashera blinked, searching the ground as she walked slowly in front of Slade. Her eyes moved over the dirt, looking for fresh tracks. She loved finding the tracks. It was the beginning of the game of hide and seek, and the most exciting part to her, besides finding the animal. She had no idea what tracks she'd find, and trying to guess which animal it would be was half the fun for her. She hoped for a deer, but knew better. She had wanted to find one so bad the first few times. They were no doubt her favorite animal in the forest . . . unfortunately, they were few and far between, and she'd later settled for rabbits and raccoons as well . . . besides, Father Slade got a bit mad when she purposely overlooked one of the rabbit or raccoon tracks for a deer one, the man knowing fully well she'd seen the smaller animals' paw prints. . . She blinked as she walked on, searching the ground. And Slade frowned, following her, half watching her, half thinking ahead.

Was it time? Truly? He was beginning to doubt. The child'd certainly gotten tons better at archery. In that respect, it _was _time to move further in her training . . . but there was not a doubt in his mind that she got attached to the creatures she tracked down, and that was of slight concern. He partly regretted ever allowing her to name them . . . but still, he'd allowed her . . . and there was no changing that now. . . "Found some!" she gasped, crouching down, and he blinked, leaning down, looking over her shoulder. "And what are those?" "A rabbit," she remarked, blinking. "Very good Little Slash. Now begin," he murmured. She nodded, and began to move through the woods, using her silver gutting knife to push back limbs and leaves, which now covered the forest floor in areas. He gritted his teeth and clutched the straps of the quivers even tighter. And forced himself to push any doubt out of his mind. No matter how long he waited, the child would have a negative reaction, and in a certain light, sooner was far better than later . . . he'd do it today. The time was right. He had to. It was simple as that. . .

Slashera blinked through the leaves of the bush, "_There it is. . ." _she whispered, blinking. And her mind began to move through potential names for the rabbit chewing on the grass. Luckily, she hadn't had to check its feces. That was her least favorite part . . . Slade nodded, "Good. . ." and placed a hand on her shoulder. And waited. She blinked and watched. Then saw his muscles move. . . "He's about to move right ahead of him. . ." she whispered. "When?" He asked, blinking. She bit her lip, and waited. Then, just as his paw left the ground. . . "Now!" she gasped. And as the rabbit leapt, the arrow sang through the air, and with a shriek, the animal fell, writhing and shaking all over, to the ground, the arrow with the orange and black feathers square in its left shoulder.

Slashera stared in shock at it for a moment, and as the thing continued to shriek, terror gripped her. "NO!" she shrieked, and rushed through the bushes towards it. Just as she reached the rabbit, however, Slade's hand grabbed her shoulder, his firm hold keeping her back. _"Stay away, Little Slash." _"NO! IT. . . IT'S DYING! IT NEEDS HELP!" she screamed, her hands swinging around and trying to grab at the animal. She was unsuccessful, and a sob broke from her body as the rabbit continued to cry out. "_Slashera, I am telling you to stay away. Do you hear me?!" _he growled out. Letting her know he meant business. She paused slightly, and he leaned down, and gripping his arrow, wrenched it out. The creature screamed once more and began to writhe. And Slashera stared with tears streaming down at it, as Slade's other large hand moved to its back leg, and the man lifted the writhing thing off the ground. Slashera jumped out of the way as blood flew back at her, shaking, gazing at its beady black eyes . . . suddenly, the thing swung about, and its teeth sank deep into Slade's wrist, blood spewing from the man immediately upon contact. Growling, Slade grabbed its head and body . . . she knew what was coming . . . As the snap filled the air, the girl turned and ran.

Slade found her curled up beside a large tree, shaking and sobbing her eyes out. He frowned, the rabbit now hog tied and dangling at his side, tied to a loop on his jumpsuit near his waist. And taking a deep breath, the man knelt down before her, his blue eye focused on her, _"Little Slash, look at me. . ." _She whimpered and turned to him, shaking, tears streaming, _"You . . . you killed it . . . you killed him . . . how . . . how could you. . ." "Slashera, when we are out here tracking animals, you are NEVER to disobey me again. . ." _he muttered firmly, and held up his injured wrist. She gazed at the bite mark there. He turned to her, _"Slashera, you may not have known this, but certain rabbits carry an illness. And they can give humans that illness by biting them. We have no idea how to tell which rabbit has that illness. And Slashera, that is why it is IMPERATIVE that you do not touch a rabbit we kill out here. Ever. Until it is dead. Do you understand me?" _he muttered. She shook, staring at him, then shook her head, eyes shut tight, "_N-no . . . not 'we' . . . because I'm not going to kill them." _Before he could say anything, she continued, frowning at him, her onyx eyes locked onto his blue one. _"It's not right . . . you broke your promise," _she whispered.

He blinked, frowning at her, _"How did I break my promise?" _he muttered. "_Y-you said we'd never use archery to kill something," _she whispered, tears streaming down, onyx eyes filled with sadness as they gazed at his calmer blue. He shook his head, _"No, I said we'd never use it to FISH. That did not rule out killing other animals." _She gazed at him, shaking, then shut her eyes tight, and shook her head, _"I-I can't do it. . . I can't hurt them. . . Father Slade, I just CAN'T." _she whispered.

He frowned hard at her for minutes, and she gazed, silently weeping, right back at him. Then he finally chose to speak, _"Slashera, why is killing fish okay?" _She darted her eyes down and sighed, _"B-because they're not as smart as we are . . . we're better . . . so it's their job to make us stronger. . ." "And you want to get stronger, don't you?" _he asked, blinking. She turned to him, shaking, and nodded. _"The same rules apply to rabbits and raccoons, Slashera," _the man replied calmly. She shook her head, eyes shut tight, _"N-no . . . this was supposed to be a game! Hide-and-seek!" _she choked out, new sobs bursting from her, shaking all the more against the tree. _"It still is . . . only this time, the winner gets something more than just finding their hider. . ." _he assured her. She turned to him, gritting her teeth, _"B-but . . . they're just . . . they're just little anim. . ." "Slashera, don't tell me you feel sorry for them. . ." _he replied quickly, _"Think about it. They have the WHOLE forest to hide from you in! They have plenty of a chance to win the game. Don't they?" _She frowned, and nodded slowly, sniffing. _"I . . . I guess so. . ." _

_ "And as if that's not enough reason why we have to kill them, we need the meat . . . just like fish," _he assured her, blinking. She frowned, and nodded again, _"I . . . I guess. . ." "Slashera, I know it's hard," _he whispered, and she turned to him, blinking. He paused, considering his next words carefully before continuing, _"But it's the same as with the fish in another way: the only way it's going to get any better, is if you keep doing it. . . you've already done the important parts: you've learned how to track. You've learned how to know where the animal's about to go. And now, you've learned how to shoot your arrow. I even know the target for you. Their shoulder. Now it's time to pull it all together. Okay?" _She let tears race down, _"Father Slade, I really don't want to. . ." _she whispered, shaking. He gazed at her for a moment, considering letting her just go back to the cabin right then and there. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Instead, he cupped her cheek, rubbing the tears still coming down, whisking them away with his thumb, _"I know, Little Slash, I know. . . but trust me, it'll be okay. . . tell you what. . . you only have to do it once today, okay? Then we can go back to the cabin." _

Slashera bit her lip, gazing out over the trail, walking slowly through the woods, her quiver now strapped via a leather strap to her back, her in her arm braces again. They'd wrapped the rabbit up in a cloth Slade'd brought, and it was now dangling from his waist again by a rope. She glanced back at the bloody cloth . . . she knew it should be simple. It was just like Slade had said: she was just putting all she'd learned together and now they needed the meat. . . But deep down, it was so much more than that . . . what if that rabbit, or the one she might find, was one of the ones she'd already found? One of the ones she'd already given a name to? What if they had a family? What if. . . "Little Slash, are you sure there aren't any tracks nearby?" Slade said with a frown, tilting his head a bit. And she blushed, and turned to the trail around them. Knowing that when he said that, she'd missed some. Quickly finding them, she bit back her sigh. Rabbit tracks . . . she could only hope it took her a while to find him. . .

Unfortunately, it took a shorter time than the one previous, and soon, she gazed into a small area where the rabbit was. As she gazed at it, it sat just as comfortably as could be, its little nose twitching. Oblivious to her and her arrows. _"Get ready," _Slade muttered, blinking. She bit her lip, and reached back for an arrow. _"Quiet now. Don't let it hear you. Remember . . . you want to get this over with . . . you want to go home. You don't want to scare it off." _he murmured, as she took it the weapon in her hands. She blinked, and slowly set it in her bow, gazing at the rabbit, her hands shaking, causing the arrow to shake itself. _"Take a deep breath," _he whispered, resting two hands on her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder blades gently with his thumbs. She took in perhaps the deepest, hardest breath she'd ever had, gazing with sad eyes at the rabbit, as it lifted its head up, and turned to gaze right at the section of woods they were in . . . it knew where they were now . . . she gritted her teeth. _"Let it out," _he whispered. At that time, the rabbit tensed. It was about to run . . . this was it. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her breathing began to quicken a bit in her anticipation. All she could see was that black beady eye . . . she wished it'd close. . . _"Focus . . . you'll do just fine," _he whispered in her ear. The rabbit leapt for it. _"Release," _he murmured at the same time.

She stared, as the rabbit twisted and writhed on the ground, the arrow deep in its shoulder, its cries something she wouldn't forget for a long time as it rolled in the dirt. Walking over to it, she gazed down at it, her Father behind her, watching as its wide, fearful eyes stared up at her, as if knowing she was the one who'd killed it. _"Good girl . . . pull out your arrow,"_ Slade murmured. She did so, blinking. And heard a nasty sucking sound . . . her stomach turned at the sound. She felt tears spill down from her eyes. "Now, I know that you can't pick him up, but just fire that arrow again at its neck. . . that'll help him bleed out and die quicker," Slade assured her. Tears streaming, she did so. And watched as even more blood flew, until finally, the blood soaked creature lay motionless on the ground.

"Now you may pick it up," Slade whispered, "Just remove your arrow first." She nodded, did so, and in no time held the limp rabbit in her palms. "Now snap his neck. . ." she closed her eyes, and did as asked, feeling his warm breath on her ear. "Yeah, there we go. . . Alright, now we'll use a towel I brought to wrap him up," Slade whispered, and in no time, the two had wrapped the rabbit up entirely in the white cloth, and using a rope Slade also had, had bundled him up nice and tight. Turning to her quiver of arrows, Slade tied the animal to the strap between the quiver and her back, "Alright, let's go."

Slashera was silent the whole way back to the cabin. Her silence continued as she sat on a stump outside with Slade sitting directly across from her, teaching her how to skin the rabbit. Once Slade instructed her to go wash up while he cooked, she walked slowly to the bathroom, her eyes on the floor. As if in a trance, she pulled off her jumpsuit and entered the shower. Reaching back, she blinked, and turned on the water. And as the hot water ran over her, she blinked at the white tile in front of her. . . " '_If you become a tightrope walker and walk across the air,' said the bunny," Eleanor read to little Mary as the rain poured down outside the child's bedroom window, the two snuggled up in a big blanket, " 'I will become a little boy and run into a house.' 'If you become a little boy and run into a house,' said the mother bunny, 'I will become your mother and catch you in my arms and hug you.' 'Shucks,' said the bunny, 'I might as well stay where I am and be your little bunny.' And so he did. 'Have a carrot,' said the mother bunny. The End." _Slashera blinked, and a crystal tear raced down her cheek.

Apart from _Goodnight Moon, The Runaway Bunny _had been her favorite story for her mother to read with her as a child . . . she'd loved to look at the pictures of the bunnies. And had always thought they were so cute. Even in tracking them in the woods, despite them not looking the same, she had known they were bunnies too, and had come to think of them as that runaway bunny, and her as the mother rabbit who would come looking for them . . . .And to shoot that little bunny. . . she let a tear race down. . . she wasn't that mother bunny any more. . . that mother bunny would never do that. . .she choked out a sob and sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her drawn up knees, gazing at the blood running down her toes and onto the white tub floor, her hot tears running along with the water down her face.

As the last bit of the blood from the killing and skinning ran down the drain, she suddenly recalled how after one night of Eleanor reading the story with her, she'd asked if she could get a bunny someday. The woman had smiled and agreed. Slashera blinked. She'd never gotten that bunny. . . _Maybe I could never really have one_, she suddenly thought. Eleanor had lied to her about caring for her. Wasn't it possible she could have lied about Slashera being able to have a bunny too? If so, Father Slade had once again provided for her something her mother had been unable to . . . in a way, he provided a way for her to have a rabbit of her own, even if it was dead. She had killed it, and soon would be eating it. She blinked and slowly stood. It'd be with her . . . taking up her washcloth, she quickly bathed herself off, and then worked shampoo and conditioner in her hair, blinking. _And if that is the way it is done, then who am I to question it? _

Slade frowned hard as he cooked the rabbit meat on the stove. He knew Slashera hadn't been over the killing when she'd been sent to take a shower. He'd been tempted to say something more to the child. To apologize for making her kill it. But as he gazed at the meat, he knew it had had to be done. Letting her only seek the animals for a longer period of time would have only made it that much harder on her in the long run. This was truly the best way . . . if only he hadn't lost his cool when she'd run for the rabbit . . . hadn't grabbed her . . . hadn't shouted . . . but he couldn't let her get hurt . . . he frowned down at the pan. Well, what was done was done. And he had an idea to make her feel a bit better . . . suddenly, her footsteps behind him caught his attention. He turned, expecting a sad, morose child. And blinked at the girl standing there in his gray muscle shirt. She wasn't overjoyed, but she certainly wasn't sad either. She gave him a small smile, "Hey, Father Slade . . ." she walked over, and smelled the rabbit, standing just beside him, "That smells good!" she said, a hand resting on his arm. A gentle, small hand. But a calm hand. He blinked. He certainly hadn't expected her to rebound this fast . . . it bothered him.

Clearly the girl had done some of her own reasoning regarding killing the rabbits. And while he was satisfied with the end result, he had to worry about the means of getting there. . . He smiled at her, "It's going to be just as good as it smells. I promise you," he assured her, and moving away, put a glass lid over the pan, and turned to the refrigerator. As he did every night, the man pulled out some milk. Getting a glass out of the cabinet, he poured her some and smiled, handing it to her, "Go outside on the porch and wait a bit while it finishes cooking, okay?" he said with a smile. She nodded and turning, bounded off to sit in one of the rocking chairs. As she began to rock, gazing out at the woods, he frowned. _I don't know what's going on in your head regarding those rabbits, little Slash . . . but I promise you, I WILL know before the last fall leave breaks free of its branch. And I have a good idea of how to start. _Turning to the rabbit meat, he blinked, and after using a wooden spoon to taste the meat's flavor, added another spice. He lifted it to his mouth just again, and as the juices ran over his tongue, smirked. Just like everything else he did: _Perfect. _

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**A/N: I simply love writing about how puppies play! So cute! But. . . Slashera's first kill . . . not so cute . . .especially not her reaction to it. ** **So what was **_**your **_**reaction to her reaction? Or to the whole chapter? Please Review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or Batman.**

**A/N: Alright, so it should be noted that up to and including this chapter, I have already had everything written. So that's why (obviously) that I've been able to upload all 90 pages of this story thus far so quickly. I am working on Chapter 13, but just please understand that it won't be put up as quickly. Thank you! And enjoy this chapter!**

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Slade pulled the blue plaid sheets up to Slashera's chin, "There we are. . ." He turned to her, "Now, are you cold?" he asked, blinking. She shook her head silently, blinking up at him, her hair forming a sort of halo around her head on her light blue pillow, her arms flat out at her sides as she lay on her back. He gazed into those onyx eyes. Normally, he'd be able to tell what she was thinking through those windows into her soul, but now . . . well . . . they seemed as quiet as she'd been acting the past two days. He blinked down at her, then turned to the window of the room and walked over to it before he eased the wooden frame down on their side of the screen, "Well, then we won't use a blanket, but we definitely need to pull this down . . . the air might get colder as the night goes on. . ." he turned and smiled at her, "And I don't want that to get you cold. . ." She gave a weak smile back, and he moved back over to the bed, sitting on the edge, reaching a strong hand over and rubbing her cheek, "Sleep tight, Little Slash. . ." he murmured. She smiled and nodded again, before he leaned down, and brushing some strands of hair from her forehead, pressed his warm lips against her forehead, before leaning back up. Standing up, the man walked to the door of the room. Turning to her, he gazed at her once more, the light coming from the hallway outlining his face against the darkness of her bedroom, "Goodnight." She rolled her head over, blinking at him, "Goodnight, Father Slade. You sleep tight too." He smiled, "You bet. See you in the morning." She nodded, smiling weakly at him one more time. For a moment he just stood there, frowning at her, then smiled and returned the nod before turning and walking out into the illuminated hallway, closing the door behind him and casting the room into darkness. All that could be seen was the light of the moon and stars outside her window. And even that was obstructed by the trees. She let out a sigh, and rolling over in bed, her back facing the door, the girl curled up, gazing at the wall now facing her.

As her eyelids began to droop, as they always did when he tucked her in, she began to shiver a little. It was coming . . . sleep . . . she didn't want to sleep. Every time she fell asleep, she saw that bunny again. . . all bloody and writhing on the ground. . . saw the second arrow slice into its neck. . . saw the blood fly. . . saw her skinning it outside on the stump. . .it was like her dreams refused to show her anything else but flashes of that horrible day. And she was forced to go through it again and again . . . she tried to fight off the sleep. She even tried to count to 10 over and over again in her head. Anything to keep herself awake . . . but by the time she'd reached the second "3", she slowly felt herself slipping away. She whimpered, and then fell into the deep sleep once more.

Slade walked across the hall quietly into his own room. Once inside, he quickly pulled the dark charcoal gray muscle shirt up over his head, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. He didn't care where it landed, and was quickly unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off as well. Once they too lay on the floor, he quickly moved over in his dark orange boxers to the wooden sliding doors of his closet, and gripping a small knob at the end of one, quickly moved it over. Revealing the five Kevlar jumpsuits inside, all clean and ready to be used with five pairs of heavy duty black boots on the floor to match. Grabbing the suit closest to him and its pair of boots, he turned and tossed the boots over into the general vicinity of his bed, before quickly undoing the long zipper that ran down the front of the suit from the neck to the crotch. The man immediately slipped into the article of clothing, pulling the stretchable, smooth, firm material over his skin. Once it was draped over his shoulders, he quickly zipped it all the way up to just beneath where his head began, feeling the tight suit envelope his body in its material, and put the small flap of Kevlar that moved over the zipper to attach via Velcro to the other side in place. Turning to the bed, he walked over and sat on the edge of it, his dark charcoal gray socks that he wore padding silently across the floor as he did so. Grabbing the first high-topped boot, he tugged it onto his right foot, before doing up the tall laces as fast as he could, tying them so tight that there was no way they'd so much as jiggle on his foot. Turning to his other boot, he did the same. Slapping his thighs, the man stood up and walked out of the room, grabbing the green and black digital watch from his dresser drawers and snapping it into place over his wrist before turning off the lights and leaving the bedroom.

Slade moved without a sound to Slashera's room door, and holding his breath, leaned closer to it, pressing his ear up against it. Her deep, steady breathing told him she was asleep. He blinked, and slowly, moved the door open, grateful he'd made sure a long time ago that it wouldn't creak. Glancing at the child's back that was turned to him, the man quietly moved to her bedside table. Picking her alarm clock up, he found the switch that turned off the alarm and flipped it. That way she'd wake up at least a little later than normal. And he needed all the time allotment he could get for what he had planned. . .

Once her room door closed behind him, the man turned and marched into the living room/kitchen area, locking the screen door leading out onto the porch before moving into the laundry/muck room. Flicking on the light in the room, he leaned up, and grabbed the black box with the key pad lock on the outside of it from a high shelf above the running washer and dryer. He sighed as he felt the cool metal beneath his fingertips, and pulled the object down, blinking at it. After quickly entering the 15 digit code of 78904456533312, the man heard the box give a low beep. Blinking, he raised the lid of the medium sized box.

Inside, in special holders made of a soft gray foam material, were knives of varying lengths and edges, along with two small pistols and various bullets for said pistols. In one corner tucked away in the back was the small black cylinder that was the man's bo staff when extended, and beside it. . . Slade smiled at the black LED flashlight lying propped against the back wall of the box. Grabbing it, along with a small black clip designed for it that had been lying beside it, he quickly connected the two, and then snapped the object onto his waist via a strap that was already a part of his suit. Turning to his knives, he grabbed two and slid them into some heavily padded areas of his suit right over his two thighs. He gazed contemplatively at this staff for a moment, and then shrugged, and leaning forward, whipped that up out of the box and into a pocket on his waist as well. He could never be too careful . . . quickly snapping the box closed, the keypad immediately locking again, he leaned up, and slid it back onto its shelf. Turning, he gazed at the now dark house, flicking off the lights to the muck room. _"I'll be back soon, Little Slash." _Turning, he opened the door, exited, and quickly locked it behind him via a key in a pocket on his arm. He sighed, gazing at the door for a moment, "_Don't worry, Little Slash. What I'm going to do will make you feel a whole lot better about today. . ." _turning, he took off at a jog, glancing at his watch. 9:25 PM. He frowned. He needed to hurry . . . he continued along the dirt trail that led from the house and headed deeper into the woods.

Three hours later, Slade breathed deeply in the chilly night air, as he moved silently between the trees of the forest, having strayed from the large network of paths of his forest a while ago. Now he moved quietly between the trees, the twigs and branches snapping under his feet. He breathed hard, and moved the flashlight up from his waist to be before him. With a click, the bluish white light illuminated various trunks and bushes. He blinked, turning his head, his eye following the glow of the device, searching for his desired target . . . just a gleam of red was all he needed . . . he knew it'd be here somewhere, and he knew that he needed to find it fast. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time was 12:30 in the morning. He let out a sigh. At this rate, it'd probably be 6:00 before he returned from his little hike. . . _And just turning off an alarm can only buy me so much time. Slashera's been waking up at 5:45 for about two years now . . . her body's habituated to that time. . . And I do NOT want her to wake up to an empty house_. . . He growled. He needed to find the damn thing fast! "Dammit all, show yourself!" he snarled, his breath coming out in a warm cloud into the chilly night air. He'd been smart to pull her window down. It _was_ cold out tonight. He turned his head, flicking his wrist to move the flashlight in that direction. He'd gone another twenty feet when he saw it. He smirked, as the flash of red entered the ring of light made from his flashlight. _"Finally." _

The large intricately carved S, with the red paint along its outline having become chipped a little over time, glared at him from the trunk of the large, tall pine, surrounded in a diamond with spikes on each point of the geometrical object being of the same color as the letter's own outline. He smirked and moving forward, traced it with his fingers. He was close. That was a good sign. Turning, he flicked his light back onto the forest just beyond the massive tree, and continued on his journey until he came to the tall fence.

It was an 80 foot tall electrical fence made up of 160 taunt, thick wires strung between poles. And all packing about 1500 volts. Slade smiled up at the large fence, with each wire half a foot from the one below or above it, and turning to the right, the man began to walk along the tall fence, his flashlight playing along the wires so that the man could know where the fence was. He may be hard to harm, but he knew how much power that was . . . it was plenty to knock a normal human flat on their back and unconscious. And that was precisely the point. Slade owned a grand total of 1,000 acres in this single location. About 400 acres were the forest, another 150 acres were the general area and adjoining field where his warehouse was, and the last 450 acres was the area beyond the fence. He'd originally decided on the fence out of a pure need for privacy. He had no need or wish to have people walking onto his property. And while his maddening network of trails would have been enough to drive anyone insane, or at least to the point of dying a miserable death while lost in his forest, the man wanted a little. . . extra precaution. But as he began to plan for it and to gather the supplies and power necessary to build it, he soon realized the obvious: he couldn't simply have a fence that looped around the very outskirts of his property, as was his original plan. How obvious would that be? No, no . . . he had to keep in mind the town that he was close to. He'd learned far too many times that people couldn't simply mind their own business. So instead, he allotted for some forest between the fence and the edge of his forest, to take care of local curiosity.

Of course, on occasion someone would venture a bit too far into the woods . . . but that was what his Slade-bots were for. The robots travelled along the full length of the fence line each day before sunrise, looking for unlucky intruders that had come into contact with the fence. The shock lasted for 24 hours, making for easy pick-up. They'd take the bodies they found and give them a serum of Slade's own making to knock them out for just a little bit longer. The same serum would also erase any recent memories. After applying another creation of Slade's, a quick working healing salve, to the burn wounds, the bots would then drop the adults off at the local bar, and drop the kids off at the local park, where one could expect to find missing children or people with no memory of the past day. The bots themselves would be at that point cloaked in holograms so that they would appear to be any normal human being, so as to not raise suspicion if spotted. Slade smirked. It was the perfect Classical Conditioning because it was one that no one would ever remember. All they knew was that if they travelled too far into the woods, intense pain would be the price. And that was enough to keep many people out.

Slade frowned, having walked 100 paces. He stopped and flicked the light up to the trees on his side of the fence. And gazed up at one half of his pulley system. The pulley hung high in a branch of the pine tree up above, a complex mechanism with various latches that was mostly hidden from view, with a pole system to keep it steady rather than just the branch that ran along the side of the tree. Two taunt cables exited the device to go over the fence to a similar mechanism on the other side, and another pair of cables hung down from it, wrapping around the tree, with one cable leading to a small leather harness that was attached via a lock with a fingerprint reading mechanism on the trunk of the tree and the other cable attached to the harness via a clip. Slade moved over, securing the still lit flashlight once more to his waist, and pressed his thumb to the fingerprint scanner. There was a loud click, and he pulled the newly freed harness away from the tree, turning it over quickly in his hands. It consisted of two straps that were able to be elongated by manipulation of their buckles and that were attached to a bungee cord clip that attached the harness to one of the heavy cables that led down from the pulley system up above. That cable would lift his body up to the pulley system. The other cable, which he now slid out of a smaller clip on the harness, was there so that he could pull on it to hoist the apparatus up to the system. The harness itself was a taunt leather thing, with the leather straps crossing underneath the overall object and at the cable clip. After adjusting the straps, he gritted his teeth, and moving around a little, slid his two legs into the holes formed in the straps.

Grateful that the extra padding of the jumpsuit prevented the leather from pressing too tightly to his thighs and the knives in his pockets from doing any damage, the man let out a sigh. Grabbing the cable that was still attached to the harness, Slade took a firmer grip upon it, and gave one tug. And felt a wave of relief as he realized that it was indeed taunt . . . he slowly lifted his feet to be straight up horizontally in the air in front of him. The man grunted, gripping the cable firmly in his hand to keep him in the sitting position. If there was one thing Slade _hated_, it was putting all of his faith into this damn thing to keep his body safe and off of the ground. Needless to say, he wanted to get this over with. He gripped the hoisting cable tightly, and gave a firm but gradual pull downward. And felt himself being lifted slowly into the air.

This was the one downside to having the fence, Slade decided, as he moved up into the air, the constant hum of the fence behind him reminding him of how dangerously close he was to it. He'd designed the fence to be completely impenetrable. There was no door or gate through which one could somehow sneak through it. The electrical circuits that fed the wires ran _beneath _the fence, with the actual generating parts being at least six feet beneath the forest floor. This prevented people from easily digging such generators up or from trying to go under the fence. He'd set up the wires of the fence to be so close together that nothing bigger than a baby could fit through it. And the structure was too high for even Slade to jump over safely. He blinked, having reached the pulley system. Leaning forward, using his flashlight's steady beam to maneuver the mechanism, he quickly flipped a switch and a latch. This revealed that the cable he was currently attached to was in fact the lower cable of the two that ran over the top of the fence. After locking the hoisting cable in place, he swung forward a bit, and kicked off from the pine tree with his two boots. With a whir and hiss of the cable, his body glided over the fence, towards the tree on the other side. He reached out, and grabbed a branch of the tree as he approached it, blinking at the thing in the darkness. He couldn't believe children actually did something similar to this, zip lining, for fun. He wished at times that he never had made the fence so damn high. . . but then again, if he couldn't get over it safely, then no one else could either. . .he turned to the pulley he was at now, and after flipping one more switch and lever, grabbed the other "hoisting" cable there, much like the one he'd pulled upon while lifting himself up on the other side of the fence, and slowly, keeping a controlled grip on the cable, the man lowered himself down, his legs tucked in this time, to keep from getting too close to the fence since it was now his back facing the tree, not his front.

Finally, it seemed, Slade's feet stretched out and touched the ground again. He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He preferred jumping and running around to this any day of the week . . . he quickly undid the buckles of the harness and slipped out of it, before taking it over to a lock similar to the one on the tree on the other side of the fence, and quickly snapping it into place after opening said lock with his thumb. Turning, the man marched into the woods on this side of the fence, his flashlight back in hand. It shouldn't be long now. . .

At 1:15, he finally came to the dwelling. It was an older cabin, with the old gloomy windows in need of a good cleaning. He blinked, standing in the center of the old dirt road that led from to the cabin to the town, and turning to the old rickety mail box, the man shined his light on the old letters that were painted upon it. "**SW". **Blinking, he turned to his "decoy" cabin and moved up the old dirt path to the porch, which was little more than a wooden floor with ten wooden posts shooting up to hold the small roof with pine needle covered shingles on it up from the base of the structure. The rickety wooden steps leading onto said porch creaked under his boots as he walked up them. He gazed at the front of the house that awaited him underneath the porch roof, with the central door and two windows that stood on either side of it. He frowned, and moving to the right side's dusty window, moved the beam of his flashlight over its surface in order to look into the dark cabin beyond. Seeing that no one else was inside, he smiled, and turning, marched over to the old green, painted screen door. Flinging the screen door, its paint having chipped away greatly due to lack of a fresh coat, open, he approached the green door behind it, and taking out a brass colored key, slid it into the lock.

The man turned and looked over his shoulder at the silent woods around him once more before giving the key a twist and opening the door to enter the house. Moving quietly inside, Slade let his hand move along the wall until it found the light switch, the once white fixture now yellowing with age. He gave it a flick. And the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling of the cabin flickered to life.

It was a simple, single room cabin, with a wooden twin bed in the corner with a mattress and box springs set up on its old frame, covered in old military sheets and blankets. Beside it was a wooden nightstand with a small lamp on top of it. The room also contained an old wooden dresser drawer. That was on the left side of the door. On the right side, was a large refrigerator set into the wall beside a long counter with a sink and many cabinets. These made up the kitchen area along with a small table and a single chair. Moving over to that side of the room, looking at the floor at the large navy blue fabric covered insulated container in the shape of a cube that was capable of keeping things cold along with various other packages of the same make and color but different sizes beside a single dark blue and black backpack, the man opened the refrigerator. Inside, the appliance was filled with so much food that there was simply no room for any more. Grabbing the large cube from the floor and adding some ice from the freezer above the refrigerator part of the appliance into it, he grabbed two of the five gallons of milk inside the fridge and put them into the cube.

As Slade worked at maneuvering the various foods in the refrigerator into the various cases from the floor, he couldn't help but make note of the genius behind his system. By keeping this cabin he'd quickly built outside of the fence, it enabled him to have a man from the town come and restock certain things for him, without having to give his own true identity and purposes away. According to that man, this was the only structure of his entire property. And that was just the way Slade wanted things. As he quickly zipped the top of the last refrigerated cube closed, he turned to a drawer, slid it open, and took out the tightly folded dark blue and black duffel bags that had been placed inside of it. Shaking out the massive bags, the man turned to the cabinets and opened them quickly, taking out various brown packages of varying sizes, some carrying loaves of bread while others carried flour, herbs, and much more. He quickly packaged them up as well.

Once he was done with all of the food, he turned to his watch, and pressed a red button on the side. A loud beep was emitted, and with that, the man picked up the various cases and bags that were now full of food and dragged them over to the area of the cabin nearest the door before stepping back, satisfied. Turning, he marched into the small bathroom attached to the main room by a door, and entered the small, cramped room that consisted of just a sink, a toilet, and a small shower.

After relieving himself, the man quickly washed up and re-entered the room beyond. There he found the five Slade-Bots, which were black androids with claw like silver arms and silver boots with an orange spot and white gleaming lights for eyes on their curved faces, standing in the center of the room. He marched over and opened the cabin's front door. There it was. The four-wheeler with its headlights on and shining in the darkness in the middle of the dirt road. Behind it, was a large metal trailer that had been hitched up to the vehicle. "Good," he muttered, and turned to them, "Start putting that in the trailer," he muttered, and for good measure, pressed an orange button on a device built into his jumpsuit at his waist in order to intensify the strength of the command. The robots nodded, and quickly began to pick up the various cases and bags before carrying them to the trailer and beginning to load it up, using bungee straps to hold the supplies down as they worked. Slade watched them for a moment, as they quickly but carefully carried the food from the house to the trailer. Then he turned to the table. And moving over, he gazed at the large brown bag sitting on the furniture's surface. Opening it slowly, he peered inside. And smiled. _Tom, you've outdone yourself yet again. . ._ he quickly closed up the bag, and turning to the backpack, picked it up and put the brown package in on top of the refilled first-aid kit he'd already placed inside after finding it in a high cabinet. Closing the zipper on the bag up tightly, the man turned and faced the door, the last of the cases now gone and on the trailer.

The night air's breeze rippled in through the still open doorway, and Slade took a deep breath of it before marching out of the cabin. As he stepped off of the last step of the porch, he turned his attention to the Bots standing at attention beside the now loaded trailer. He pointed to the one that was on the far left of the group, "You, come with me. The rest of you, stay behind and clean the house a bit. It's filthy," he muttered, and as four rushed past him and into the house, he marched down the path before stopping beside the mailbox. Turning to it, he flipped it open and reached inside. He smirked as his hand closed around a small cylindrical plastic package. As his fingers gripped it, he could tell that it was safely padded with bubble rap on the inside to give added protection to the object it carried. Pulling it out, Slade used his flashlight to read the return address. _England_. . . His grin widened and he pocketed the object. Turning to the bot, he blinked, "Let's go." He quickly got on top of the four-wheeler, leaning down over the handlebars a bit as the bot got on behind him. With a rev of the engine, the machine took off into the woods.

A few minutes later, they approached the fence and pulley system. And illuminated by the headlights on the other side of the fence was another pair of Slade-bots, with their own four-wheeler and trailer. "Well, up you two go," Slade muttered, to his Bot and one of the two others, pointing straight up into the air. In no time, both Bots had scurried up the trunks of the trees. Slade quickly set about unlocking the harness from the tree on his side. Maneuvering the straps to accommodate the object, he began to hoist the first case up to the pulley system of his tree. The Bot on his side quickly unlocked the cable and sent the case to the other side, where the other tree's Bot lowered said case down in order for the last to load it onto their trailer. And so they went on, until finally all of the packages were in the trailer on the other side and strapped down tight.

After Slade had hoisted himself up and over the fence, he quickly mounted that four wheeler, glancing nervously at his watch, having already relocked the harness back into place. It was around 4:00 AM now . . . he turned to the Bot that had remained on the other side of the fence, and frowned, tossing the key to the "decoy" up over the top of the fence, which the Bot immediately caught, "GO HELP THE OTHERS CLEAN. AND LOCK THE CABIN UP WHEN YOU'RE DONE!" he ordered, as one of the Bots on his side of the fence climbed on behind him on the four wheeler and the other clambered onto the trailer and sat behind the supplies. With that, he revved forward on the four wheeler and along the fence line until he found a wide enough path for the four wheeler and trailer in the woods. Turning down it, he sped along until he got out onto another path in his network of trails. After checking a small S and diamond on a tree nearby that confirmed it was indeed the path he needed to take, the man sped off at top speed along the long flat path.

He reached his cabin at around 5:00 AM and with the Bots' help quickly unloaded the cases and bags from the trailer before sending the Bots back to the warehouse with the four wheeler and cart.

Turning to the cabin, he let out a sigh, grabbed the case and duffel bag that were closest to him in one hand, and unlocked the door. He had a lot of stuff to put up . . . and only about an hour to get it all done. After quickly locking his weapons and the package from the mailbox into his black box, the man set to work.

At long last, Slade was finished, and he stepped back from his newly restocked cabinets and refrigerator and freezer, his hands on his waist, gazing at them. And let out a deep sigh, slumping forward. Before turning and walking down the hallway as he glanced at his watch. 5:35 AM. He smiled weakly. He'd made good time. . . before he turned to his room, he paused, and turning on his heel, walked over to Slashera's room and slowly opened the door just a little and gazed in at the girl on the bed. She had rolled over in her sleep onto her other side during the night, and although it was clear she wasn't having a very pleasant dream by the frown on her face, she was still asleep. Smiling calmly, he turned and silently closed the door behind him before heading to his own room.

Once inside, he set his backpack on his bed gently and turning, marched into his bathroom. It was only 5:40 AM. He had time for a quick shower.

Slashera blinked and slowly opened her eyes as she awoke. She hadn't had a very good dream, but that was what she'd expected the night before . . . slowly, the girl sat up and looked around, frowning, in a light blue muscle shirt. And took in her jumpsuit, neatly folded, on the end of the bed. That was the first thing she noticed. The second thing, was that her clock didn't have a 5, 4, and 5 on it. Instead, it had a 6, 1, and 5. . . She frowned. She'd felt like something was wrong when she'd woken up . . . she hadn't heard the beeping sound the thing usually made to wake her up in the morning. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. Was it broken? Was it not working? She sighed. She'd have to talk to Slade about it later . . . _later . . ._ she shuddered, and closed her eyes tightly as she thought about what they'd do later that day. About the hunting. About killing another rabbit with her bow and arrow . . . it had been three mornings since the day she'd killed the bunny, and she knew that this was the day that they were supposed to track and kill again. She sighed and opened her eyes. Well, it was like fishing, she supposed. In the beginning it had been more difficult. Now it was easy. And the way it had gotten easy was by doing it over and over again . . . she got up slowly and began to put on her jumpsuit and shoes. Still . . . she really wished that she didn't have to do it at all.

As she walked into the kitchen, Slashera frowned, turning her head, gazing first at the vacant kitchen area, then at the living room. Where was Slade? Frowning, she turned and walked slowly to his room door. And hesitantly, knocked. What was going on? Normally he was up and making breakfast by now . . . there was no answer, and she knocked again, "F-father Slade? Are you there?" she called, blinking. No response. She bit her lip, and gripping the knob, slowly twisted it and opened the door, walking in quietly. The bed was made, and there was a backpack on top of it. Despite being curious as to what it could hold, the child didn't venture to open it. If it was her Father's then it was his. Not hers. Turning, she walked into the bathroom and checked to see if he was taking a shower or bath. And bit her lip. No . . . not there either . . . turning, she walked quickly out of the room, a slight fear gripping her, and as she closed the door behind her, she walked through the house and to the door leading into it from outside, walking past the moving washing machine and dormant dryer as she did so. And turning the knob, found that it was locked.

Had he left her here?! He'd never done that before, but . . . but could he be mad at her? Could she have done something wrong? A new fear entered her. Had he abandoned her? Like her mom? "SLADE?!" she called, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Praying that he would answer. But all she heard was silence. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and rushed into the kitchen again, turning around on her heel, "SLADE?!" she called even louder. "I'm out here, Little Slash. No need to panic," a calm voice said from the porch, her being able to hear it because the inside door leading to the porch was open, leaving only the screen door between her and outside. She blinked, frowning, and slowly walked over to the door, pushing it open. And stepping out, gazed at him, blinking. He sat in a rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth, sipping on what appeared to be coffee. He turned, and smiled at her, "Sorry if I scared you, Little Slash. I was just enjoying my coffee out here . . . would you like to join me?"

She frowned and slowly nodded. She'd never had coffee before. He smiled a bit more, "Alright, how about I get you some milk then?" She smiled and nodded a bit faster. Milk _did _sound good. Much better than coffee. He stood and walked past her and into the house, immediately pulling down a glass for her and pouring her some milk. Turning, he walked over to the door, and rested a hand on her head, ruffling her hair, handing her the glass, "I'm happy that you were concerned about my whereabouts, little one. Let's go sit down and just listen to and see the forest, alright?" She blinked, and nodded slowly.

In no time, Slade was back reclining in his chair, and Slashera sat on the edge of hers, leaning forward, taking slow steady sips from her milk. She held the glass in both of her hands. Slade took a deep drink of his black coffee with a bit of chervil seasoning, and breathed out, eye closing, craning his head back against the rocking chair's back, having dressed himself in a black muscle shirt, blue jeans, and black work boots, "Just listen. . . the birds. . . so beautiful in the morning," he breathed out, relaxing against the chair. Slashera glanced over at him and nodded, "They are very good to listen to, Father Slade." He opened his eye and turned, blinking, to her, then smiled, and pointed, "Look. See that? It's a bluebird." She turned and gazed at the beautiful animal, and took another sip of her milk, as it sat perched on a limb nearby, "It is pretty." Slade smiled, and then something else caught his attention from the corner of his eye, "Look at that." He stood and walked to the porch railing, and resting one hand on it, leaned forward a bit, gazing out at the forest below. Three does and their young were walking silently through the woods below, making little noise. A few of the fawns still had a few spots, but it was clear that they would lose them soon. As they sensed his eye watching them, they turned their heads, blinking up at him, then, seeing him as no immediate threat, turned and continued to walk onward. Slashera frowned, slowly stood, and walked over to stand on Slade's right side, taking a sip slowly, "They're pretty," she whispered, taking in the sight. As a baby deer turned and gazed at them, it seemed to her that it looked directly at her. And she frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

They'd tracked deer . . . just like they'd tracked rabbits. . . and when they'd caught those rabbits the other day. . . she stared, wide eyed at the deer, and her hands shook as she gazed into the baby's eyes. Was she going to. . . were they going to kill. . . turning, she walked back to her rocking chair, set the milk on the porch floor, and put her head in her hands, sighing and trying to not think like that. . . Slade frowned and turned around to face her, blinking. He'd thought she'd like to see the deer. . . instead, it seemed to only upset her. . . he turned and looked over his shoulder at the deer once more as they wandered deeper into the woods. And then a thought occurred to him. And he realized what had made Slashera upset. The thought of hunting the deer. . . It sometimes amazed him at how quickly her young mind made such valid connections. Turning to her, he set his coffee on the railing and walked over, sitting down in his rocking chair, eye closed, and held out his hands, "Slashera, would you come here for a minute?"

He sighed, opening his eye as she crawled into his lap, her side facing him, her head hung, her legs dangling over the sides of his right thigh. He wrapped his arms gently around her waist, gazing at her, "Slashera, please look at me." she turned and gazed at him, and for the first time in two days, he saw something in her eyes other than indifference. Worry. He blinked. Now was the time to figure out what her reasoning had been three days ago. How she'd worked out her emotions over killing the rabbit. He'd been wanting to know since then so that he could act accordingly. He'd tried hard to try to read her expressions and reactions to things over the past two days for clues as to how she'd dealt with killing the rabbit, but that had not provided him with any insight. That was pretty much because she'd had a detached attitude for the past two days, as if she didn't care one way or another about anything. When he'd first realized that he'd have to just ask her concerning her reasoning, he'd at first wanted to ask her right away. Instead, he'd decided to wait to ask until after he'd gone to his decoy cabin. But now, after he'd gone and gotten the supplies he needed from the decoy cabin, he knew that he didn't need to wait any longer. The only question was: how did he lead into a conversation to figure that out? He knew he very well couldn't say, "Little Slash, three days ago, I had you kill a rabbit. Then I had you skin it. You were really upset and went to take a shower. When you came back out, you seemed alright. And I need to know why. So what helped you calm down?" He'd in fact thought of dozens of ways to go about asking her, in dozens of different settings. But now, the only thing that came to mind was one simple question. In fact, its simplicity nearly offended Slade. Still, it was better than nothing. . . "Little Slash, I'm about to ask you a few questions. Can you answer them all honestly and truthfully? Please?" She blinked, frowning. He saw the confusion in her eyes. It was clear that she would have never thought of lying to him . . . "Of course, Father Slade. What are your questions?" "Well, for starters. . ." he took a deep breath and let it out, "Are you happy?"

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**A/N: Oooh, leavin' it on a cliffhanger. 0_o But at least you all got some bigger insight into Slade's whole system and way he keeps Slashera and himself hidden! And I promise, I'm really working hard to get the next chapter out. Your wait shouldn't be too long. ;) But please, feedback is always good! So review, review, review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or Batman or **_**The Runaway Bunny**_** or the stories of Peter Cottontail.**

**A/N: **I am deeply sorry for the long wait between Chapter 12 and this Chapter. However, I do hope this chapter is to your liking. The reasons why it is so late are a minor writer's block I encountered while writing it and the fact that my senior year in college has recently started, which has meant a constant flow of schoolwork that has needed to be completed. So, anyway, I've just proofread it two times, and hope that there are minor errors and many things that you enjoy!

As a brief review of what was just said in Chapter 12 at the beginning of this chapter, here is a small amount of Chapter 12 copied here for your convenience!

_"Little Slash, I'm about to ask you a few questions. Can you answer them all honestly and truthfully? Please?" She blinked, frowning. He saw the confusion in her eyes. It was clear that she would have never thought of lying to him . . . "Of course, Father Slade. What are your questions?" "Well, for starters. . ." he took a deep breath and let it out, "Are you happy?"_

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**Chapter 13**

Slashera frowned at the question, "Am I happy?" she whispered, as if for clarification. He blinked and nodded, "Yes, Little Slash." He lifted his left hand up and pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear that was facing him, studying her with his blue eye, "That is my question. Are you happy here with me?" She blinked then answered him almost immediately, "Of course I am, Father Slade. I love you." He blinked and tilted his head up a little, as his arms moved to hold her firmly around her waist, "So you do like me?" She turned to face him head on, frowning at him, "Of course, Father Slade. I love you." "But you're not happy that I had you kill that rabbit," he turned and gazed at the forest with a sad look on his face and let out a sigh, "And you're not happy that I'm going to ask you to do it again, are you?" She frowned, and looked down at her knees. "Well, I'm not _happy_ about killing the rabbit, but. . ." "But what, Little Slash?" he whispered, turning his gaze back to her. She turned to him and bit her lip a little, before sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, "But that still makes you better than mommy . . . I think."

Slade blinked, frowning. He was a little taken by surprise by that comment. First of all, Slashera hadn't mentioned her mother in at least a _year _. . . and second of all, how could that _possibly _make the child think that he was better than. . . "How does that make me better than your mommy, Little Slash?" he whispered in a voice so low that it was as if the very trees were trying to overhear their private conversation. She gazed at him for a moment, then sighed and turned to gaze out at the forest around them, clearly uncomfortable with continuing with the conversation. Slade frowned, and decided to pressure her further into answering him, tugging at her waist a little with his arms. He understood that she didn't want to continue, since it was about her mother and the child perhaps still felt the pain of betrayal whenever she thought of the woman, but he needed more information, "Remember, Little Slash, you said you would answer my questions honestly and truthfully." _"I. . . I know. . ." _she said in a whisper, blinking, gazing at a squirrel as it raced up a tree nearby and out onto the end of a limb. As she watched the limb sway up and down because of the animal's movements, she frowned, "I always wanted a bunny. Ever since my mommy read to me the story _The_ _Runaway Bunny _. . . I always thought that the little white bunny and his mommy were so cute. . . And so, when I found out that people could have bunnies for pets, I wanted one. . . My mommy said that I could have one, but she never . . ." she sighed, "But she never got me one. . ." she hung her head, gazing sadly at the porch's floorboards, "At least. . . by eating the bunnies, I get to have one . . . _even if it's not really the way I want one,"_ she finished in a whisper. Slade frowned. He wasn't going to deny that to him the girl's reasoning was a little . . . unexpected . . . but he'd heard even crazier reasoning in his lifetime, so he chose not to comment about it. Not yet, anyway.

Slashera bit her lip and hung her head, her lips shaking a little as she whispered, _"I still don't want to kill them though, Father Slade," _she closed her eyes tight, shaking all over now, _"Every time when I go to sleep, I see that bunny, writhing on the ground. I see my arrow killing it, going through its neck . . . I see myself skinning it . . . every night it's the same thing. Over, and over, and over again. . ."_ she felt the tears racing down her cheeks as she spoke, and choked out a weak sob when she was finished.

Slade gazed at her with a softening blue eye, as the child buried her face in the palms of her hands. This was it. All of that emotion that Slashera had kept buried and hidden away from him for the past two days was finally being let out and revealed to him. Taking in a shaky breath, she turned her head and gazed at him with tears rolling down her cheeks, _"I know that since we tracked all the other kinds of animals. . . the deer, the raccoons . . ."_ her lips trembled and for a moment it seemed to him that she'd be unable to continue. But the child pressed on, and Slade blinked, gazing at her, feeling a little pity for the poor thing who had so much worry, fear, and sadness written all over her face. After being silent for a moment, however, the child surprisingly pressed onward with what she had to say after taking a deep breath, _"I-I know that since we tracked them the same way that we did that bunny, that. . . that. . . that we're not going to just kill bunnies. We're going to kill deer . . . like those little babies we just saw . . . and their mommies. And we're going to kill other animals too . . . any that we track. . . And . . . And . . . I'm. . . Father Slade, I'm scared."_ She choked out another sob, gazing at him with fear in her onyx depths, tears running down her face in rivers, her hands gripping her knees. Turning her head, she shut her eyes tight, her face tilted down and facing her knees, shivering and shaking and weeping in his lap, _"Father Slade, I'm scared of killing them like I killed that bunny. . . I'm scared of seeing them when I fall asleep too. I don't want to remember them that way. I don't! Father Slade, please, please don't make me!"_ With that, she threw herself into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, shaking all over as he wrapped his arms firmly around her back, holding her tightly against him, his heartbeat right next to her ears as one of his hands cradled her head. He knew that the child had said all that she would be able to manage to say for now. She'd finally broken down completely.

He began to rock back and forth slowly in the chair, his eye closing, _"Shhh, shhh, my little one," _he murmured gently in her only sobbed even louder into his chest, clutching his shirt tightly in her smaller hands. "_I'm so happy you were honest with me, Little Slash. For the past two days, I've been very worried about you," _he whispered calmly, _"You weren't telling me what made you so sad, and it bothered me. I wasn't able to help you. But now I can." _He looked down at her, and reaching up with his right hand, tilted her chin up so that she gazed, teary eyed, into his face. "Slashera you were right to think that you'll have to kill the deer and raccoons just the same way that you had to kill that little bunny. That's something that I'm afraid I cannot change. You need the meat. You need to get stronger. Remember?" She sobbed, and rubbed her slightly runny nose with the back of her left hand, as the tears continued to race down her cheeks, nodding, _"Y-yes . . . they're weaker than us. And so they have to help us get stronger . . . like the fish. But Father Slade, I know that if I kill them, that when I'll go to sleep I'll. . ." "I know, I know,"_ he murmured calmly, gazing at her, one finger stroking her smooth, wet cheek, _"You'll see them again. In your dreams. And I'm not saying that you won't. But I will say this: over time, you'll see them in your sleep less and less, as you get more used to the idea of killing them."_ She frowned, sniffing, _"You-you really think so?" _He smiled at her, and cradled her chin with his hand so that he then rubbed both of her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger, "I _know _so." She blinked, "And the only way to get used to the idea of killing them is to. . ." _"Is to keep killing them,"_ Slade murmured with a nod, confirming her suspicions. She frowned and looked up at him, "But Father Slade, I don't want to kill. Especially not those little baby deer. . ."

_ "Slashera," _he sighed, and closed his eye, leaning his head back against the chair before turning back to her and opening his eye, moving the hand that had been under her chin up in order to run his fingers through her black locks, "You know that you're going to have to kill again to get over this. . ." She sighed, crestfallen, and lowered her head, gazing sadly at his chest, _"I. . . I know. . ."_ "But I can assure you that you won't be killing any baby deer," he remarked calmly, "Or their mommies." She turned, frowning, to him, "Really?" He smiled and nodded, "Really. We'll only kill the bucks. The ones with the horns. Alright?" She frowned. It wasn't really what she wanted. She didn't want to kill anything . . . but if what Slade said was true, the more she killed, the less she'd have the bad dreams that scared her so much. And if she wasn't killing mommies and their babies, well . . . that was better than having to kill them . . . right? "And for another thing, it will probably be at least fourteen days or so before we even kill any deer," Slade continued and she turned to him, blinking. He smiled weakly, "You're not ready to shoot down anything that big yet, Little Slash. Trust me. Deer aren't like bunnies and raccoons. They tend to run once they're shot with the first arrow. Then you have to chase them down and shoot them again. I'd much rather have you start off with shooting something that doesn't run like that." She smiled weakly back, "Thank you, Father Slade." Slade smiled. He understood the child's relief. While he knew that she felt bad about hurting rabbits and raccoons, he knew that above all else, the girl felt worse about killing deer. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought up the baby thing with just that animal. So he knew that since he'd said that they wouldn't kill deer just yet, it definitely helped ease her tension, if only by a little bit.

Slashera gazed up at Slade. She did feel a little bit better now . . . the fact that the bad dreams would eventually go away did make her feel better, and the fact that he said that they wouldn't kill deer yet also made her feel good. And the fact that she wasn't going to kill any mama deer or their babies was even better news to the young girl. Slade chuckled and ruffled her bangs, "Now, feel better?" She smiled and nodded, "Yes, Father Slade. Thank you. I promise that I won't ever hold my feelings in ever again with you. I should have told you right away. Then you could have made me feel better two days ago. Not just right now!" He smiled and drew her into a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder as he held her tight, his eye closed in contentment, "Thank you, Little Slash, for that promise." He leaned back and smiled at her, "That makes me very happy." She grinned up at him, and for a moment the two sat there, gazing at one another as if they were seeing each other for the first time in two days. As if they'd been a million miles apart during that time. Suddenly, the moment was broken as Slade patted her right side a little, "Well, why don't we get up and I can go make us some pancakes? I bet you're starving, Little Slash!" She grinned, as at that moment her stomach seemed to answer him with a growl. So she slid off, moments before Slade himself stood up. Grabbing their mug and glass, the two headed inside, with Slashera's left hand held firmly in Slade's right hand.

Turning to her as the screen door closed behind them, Slade smiled fondly at the girl, happy that she was talking to him again, "You know, Little Slash, that was a very smart realization you made. . ." he turned, and setting his mug down on the table, slid out her chair while motioning for her to sit in it by guiding her hand towards the piece of furniture. Slashera hopped onto it, frowning at him quizzically, "What realization, Father Slade?" "That by killing the bunnies, you get to keep them. I'm very proud that you figured that out," he explained, leaning down and pressing his warm lips to her forehead before leaning back and smiling at her. He just smiled at her for a moment, before he knelt before her, rubbing her cheek with the palm of his right hand, gazing intently at her, "You're such a smart little girl, Little Slash. And that makes me very happy with you. I have a present for you. I was going to wait until after breakfast, but I think that because you were so smart about figuring out what you figured out about the bunny so quickly, I can just give it to you now. Would you like that?" She smiled and nodded, "Of course, Father Slade!" He smiled, "Then wait right here and I'll go get it." Turning, he marched down the hall and went to his room.

Slashera blinked, watching him leave, then turned, gazing around the kitchen. And her eyes fell on his mug. Frowning, the girl turned and gazed after him one more time before turning back to the man's drinking glass. It was just sitting about a foot from her. Slowly, curiously, the child reached out and picked the ceramic thing up and pulled it towards her. After glancing up to make sure that he wasn't on his way back down the hallway just yet, Slashera gazed in at the dark liquid still inside the mug. And leaning down to the rim of the device, gave it a sniff. A very good smell rose up to meet her nose and she smiled. And wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled . . . tilting her head back and raising the mug to her lips, listening for any movements from the hall, the girl took a sip from the mug. And pulled the mug away, repulsed, her face screwed up against the slightly bitter taste. Turning, she put it back onto the table and sat on her hands, frowning hard at the floor. _Yuck! Why would Father Slade ever drink something like that?! That was just so . . . so gross! Nasty! Yuck! _She shook her head as if to shake off the bad taste that remained on her tongue, sticking her tongue out a bit as she shuddered.

Slade just barely held in his chuckle, having moved silently down the hall with the paper bag in his two hands, watching from around the corner as the girl shook her head against the taste of the drink. The man smirked. He'd been just about to round the corner when he'd seen her tilt her head back, and had been curious as to what her reaction would be. So he'd stayed hidden. And boy was it worth it. He waited a few minutes until Slashera sat still again, and continued to walk into the room, "Here it is, Little Slash. Now, the thing you were so smart about _was _the fact that by killing the rabbit you'd get to keep it . . . but I don't think you fully grasped just how you'll be able to keep it . . . hold out your hands and close your eyes," he murmured the last as he stood before her, blinking down at her as she eyed the package interestedly. Turning to him, she blinked and nodded, before shutting her eyes tight and holding out her hands. She heard some paper rustling, and then something smooth and hard was placed in her hands. "Alright, open your eyes," he whispered. She did so, and stared at the bunny in her hands. The creature was set up on what looked like a wooden log. Or at least its back feet were. The rest of his feet were on the small wooden platform that she held with her hands that held both the bunny and the log, making it look like he was leaping off of the log and onto the platform's smooth, polished, wooden surface. She tilted her head to the side. There was something familiar about the color of his fur . . . the way it looked . . . she turned to Slade, gazing at him, "Is this the bunny?"

Slade nodded and knelt down, resting back on his heels, gazing at her from the other side of the animal, "I sent the skin to someone I know and they made this for me. I wanted to give it to you because I was so proud of you, Little Slash. And now, you can keep the bunny forever. Understand?" She blinked, and turned back to the bunny. Sure, it wasn't alive . . . but still . . . she reached out and fingered his head, rubbing the small ears. She turned to him, as Slade continued. "Slashera, I really was proud with you about shooting him the other day. Truly. And I'll be proud of every other bunny, raccoon, and deer you shoot. Which is why every time you do that, I'll have something like this made for you. That way, you can keep them in your room with you. Alright?" She gazed at him, and then turned back to the bunny, knowing fully well that this was as close as she could get to actually having a real one. And it was far better than she'd ever had with her mother. . . Slade truly was better. . . she turned, smiled at him, and leaning forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, having set the bunny on the floor beforehand, hugging him tight, kissing him on the neck, "Thank you, Father Slade! Really, thank you! I love you!" he smiled, and taking her arms gently in his hands, moved them away from his neck before leaning down and gripping the bunny. Moving it back up, he put it on the table beside his mug. With that, the man stood, smiling calmly down at her, "After breakfast we'll put him in your room. For now, you can think of what to call him." Slashera nodded firmly.

It was clear to Slade a few minutes later, as he stirred the pancake batter together for their breakfast, that Slashera took her new job _very _seriously. "How about . . . Hopper?" She said, gazing at his back from where she sat at the table, and turned to the bunny trophy again, "Hopper the rabbit. . ." "Didn't you name one Hopper a week ago?" Slade remarked absentmindedly, gazing out the window at a bird flying through the trees. Then the man gritted his teeth, eye widening as he realized his mistake. "That's right! Oh no, then that won't do . . . then how about . . . Timothy? Or Sally? Or. . ." with that Slashera began to make a whole new list of possible names, and Slade sighed, slumping his shoulders. Turning to the blueberry pancake batter now mixed up and in the large bowl he had used to mix the ingredients together in, the man began to move it onto the griddle he'd sat on the stove, the batter forming little perfect circles. As he took down a platter to put them on once the pancakes were done from a nearby cabinet, she continued, "Or Samantha, or Maria, or . . . wait . . . is it a boy or a girl, Father Slade?" she asked, frowning. "Boy," Slade supplied. The girl had already gone through about 50 names already . . . the poor rabbit. Even dead, it must be having identity issues. The man was literally kicking himself for reminding her about naming another rabbit Hopper previously. That would have stopped the flow of names at 40. . .

"How about Peter? Like Peter Cottontail? I used to love that story," Slashera said, blinking at Slade's back. Slade frowned, "Really?" "Yes sir," she nodded in the affirmative, and turned back to the rabbit, gazing at it, "Peter . . . yeah, I like that name. Do you think it fits him?" "I think it fits him perfectly, Little Slash," Slade murmured, putting the pancakes onto the platter, "Now, as for Peter Cottontail, what's his story all about?" She frowned and turned to him, "You've never heard of Peter Cottontail, Father Slade?" "No," Slade admitted and turned his head to her, gazing over his shoulder at the child, "I'm afraid I haven't." "Well, his real name was Peter Rabbit, but he got tired of a boring name like that, so he changed it to something he thought sounded more important, like Peter Cottontail. . ." Slade frowned, "Interesting." He turned back to the pancake batter bowl and moved more of the mixture to the griddle to cook. "Yeah. . ." she turned and smiled at the rabbit, beginning to rub the short fur of its back, "He learned how to act in a way that made him deserve such a better, more important name, too. So that he would be allowed to keep it . . ." "So did he?" Slade asked, frowning, flipping the pancakes over on the griddle. "Did he what?" "Was he able to keep the name?" Slade asked, frowning, wanting to truly know what happened next in the story.

He'd actually read _The Runaway Bunny_, along with many other books, in an attempt to be ready for any story Eleanor might have read to the child in the event that it may come up in any of the conversations he might have with Slashera. But Peter Cottontail had been something he hadn't read. . . "No. . . you see, his friends made fun of him for changing his name," Slashera said with a sigh, gazing sadly at the man's back from where she sat at the table, rocking her legs back and forth beneath her chair, "So he didn't stay Peter Cottontail for long. Instead, he changed it back to Peter Rabbit." Slade frowned, blinking, and moved the pancakes from the griddle to the platter before putting just two more on the hot cooking utensil and waiting the appropriate amount of time to turn them. "So what was the point?" he asked, blinking, "If he was just going to change it back?" "Mommy said that he just figured out that he shouldn't try to be something he wasn't. That he should just keep his actual name," Slashera said, then let out a sigh, "But I still liked Cottontail better. . ." Slade frowned and nodded, "I do too." Turning, he walked over to the table and sat the platter down, along with some syrup he'd grabbed from a cabinet, "I think it's foolish to not try to better yourself." He turned and walked to the refrigerator and pulled out some orange juice before pouring some of the juice into two glasses he set on the counter, "Don't you?" "Of course! After all, if you don't get stronger and better, you're ugly, right?" Slashera said. Slade smiled and turned to her, having closed the juice and put it away. The man nodded, walked over, and sat the two glasses at their places at the table, "That's right. And that's why we have to keep on getting better, right?" with that he put four pancakes on the child's plate, and picking up the syrup container, he drizzled some of the brown thick liquid on top of them. She nodded, smiling, "By training and eating right!" "Exactly," he said, smiling and sitting down at his own seat, "Now let's eat little Slash!" with that, the two dug into the pancakes.

The two ate their breakfast in silence, but both would on occasion smile at the other as they ate their food. As Slade watched the girl eat, he couldn't help but be happy that she was being emotional and happy again. He truly had missed that about her over the past two days. . . As he watched the girl turn to the rabbit every few minutes and smile at it before turning back to her food, he smiled. Luckily, the fact that she was able to "keep" the rabbits and other things she'd kill played right along with the way she'd coped with killing the animals in the first place. That way, she wouldn't be going all silent on him again for a nice long time. And he knew that the nightmares she complained about would gradually become less and less frequent. And because of that, they'd bother her less and less as time passed. He knew that from experience. After all, no one, no matter how perfect they were, went without nightmares. Not even Slade himself.

Finally, the two were finished with their breakfast and Slashera turned to Slade, waiting, gripping the edges of the seat of her chair. Slade smiled calmly at her, before slowly standing up and picking up both of their plates and glasses and heading to the sink. He quite frankly was a little bit excited about putting the rabbit in her room and a part of him did want to run and do just that before cleaning the dishes, but he also didn't mind teasing her a little. So he would take his time and slowly hand-wash the plates and glasses before the two of them went to put the rabbit up.

Slashera frowned at Slade, blinking at him as the man slowly washed the dishes. Then the griddle, then the bowls he'd used to make breakfast, and then the other various utensils he'd used as well. She bit her lip, tapping the toe of one shoe on the floor beneath her chair in her slight impatience. Turning to the rabbit, she sighed, and then turned to him, "Father Slade do you _have _to wash the dishes now? I want to put Peter in my room!" "Now, now, Little Slash, patience is a virtue," Slade said with a smile as he moved his hands around in the soapy water, finding a fork that lay on the bottom of the sink. Pulling it out, he used a rag to begin to clean it off, warm water pouring from the faucet and flowing into the portion of sink to his left which was separated from the portion he was using to scrub the dishes in by a small partition, ready to rinse the soap off when he was finished cleaning the utensil. She frowned, "What's a virtue?" "Well. . ." Slade blinked, and glanced at the forest outside. Contemplating his answer . . . "Well, you know how people have good things about them? Things that other people like?" he finally decided to say.

Slashera frowned, "Like when they're nice . . . or kind?" "Right. Well, those things can be called 'traits' and you could say that people put _value _to traits like that. That means that because people have those traits, other people usually like them even more than they would if that person didn't have those traits. Those traits can be called virtues," he said, "And patience is one of them. You can't always have what you want right when you start to want it. Sometimes you have to wait. And when you understand that, and are willing to wait calmly and happily for whatever it is you want, then that is called patience." She frowned, "Oh. . ." "But that doesn't mean you should just sit around and wait for something to happen or be done for you," he quickly added, frowning and setting the fork, which by now was very clean, into a metal drying rack on the section of counter on the side of the sink opposite the stove. Picking up a plate, he began to clean it as well, "You have to work for what you want, little Slash." "But isn't that the opposite of being patient?" Slashera asked, confused.

"No," Slade replied, "You see . . . sometimes it takes a while to get what you want, even if you work for it. Now impatience, or the opposite of patience, could be considered hurrying through the tasks required to get to what you want, or rushing through things. Now, while that might work 'faster' than being patient, that doesn't make it right. Sometimes, if you do that, what you get in the end isn't what you want, because you might have made a mistake by trying to rush through things. By rushing through things, you might have forgotten something very important that needed to be done." "So . . . being patient is taking time to get things done that need to get done in order to get what you want? And not rushing through it?" she asked slowly, "But how do you know if you're being too slow? Or too patient? Can you be too patient, Father Slade?"

Slade paused, and then nodded, setting the plate in the rack as well, "I suppose you can be. . . I guess too much of a good thing like that could be a bad thing. If you go about something too slow, it could mean that you don't get what you need or want when you absolutely need to get it." "But you can be too impatient too, can't you?" she said. He nodded, "Absolutely." "So how do you tell what's too impatient or too patient to get what you want? How do you know if you're getting it wrong or not?" she asked, frowning at him. Slade paused, blinking, "I guess you just learn over time, Little Slash. Or you can ask other people who you know have done things right and have gotten what they want, and who wanted the same things you want. You see, they've already learned how patient you need to be to get what you want." She frowned.

For a moment, there was silence in the room as Slade cleaned the mixing whisk he'd used with the pancake batter. He blinked, waiting as Slashera mulled over what he'd said in her mind. Then . . . "Would I be too impatient if I helped you do the dishes so we can go put Peter in my room?" Slade chuckled, "No, I think you'd be just fine. Come on over here." She grinned and hopped out of the chair and rushed over, and he in no time had her rinsing the soapy bubbles off of the things he was cleaning and handing them back to him, the young child reaching over the high countertop to be able to help. "Do you think Peter should go on my dresser or on my bedside table, Father Slade?" Slade smiled calmly, "Oh, Peter's not going in either of those two places, Little Slash." She frowned, "But there's no other place for him to go, is there?" "Oh, don't worry. I have a place to put him," Slade said with a smile, and turned to her. "What is it?" she asked, her eyes widening a little, gazing up at him. He smiled, and winked his eye at her, "It's a present. I'll show you it as soon as we're done with the dishes. But remember: don't rush through the dishes!" She grinned right back, "Only enough to not be too patient, Father Slade." He laughed, turned back to the soapy water, grabbed a glass, and brought it out to begin to clean it, "That's an excellent idea."

In no time they were done, and Slashera turned, grinning, to Slade, "Now?" He chuckled, and nodded, "Go get Peter and let's go to my room. That's where the present is." She grinned, rushed to the table, picked up the rabbit, and walked just ahead of him down the hallway, her eagerness evident in every move she made, gripping the small figurine's body tightly in her hands.

In no time Slashera was sitting on the edge of his bed, her legs dangling off of it, clutching the rabbit tightly as it sat in her lap, watching as Slade moved his arms around on a shelf up above his clothes rack in his closet, the man standing on tiptoe in order to do so. She blinked, gazing at the boots and jumpsuits inside of the closet, then turned to him as he grunted and she heard the rattling of paper. The man moved his weight from his right foot to his left and sighed, repositioning his hands on the object he was trying to get out of the closet. She frowned and was about to offer her assistance when she heard him mutter under his breath, _"__Кровавые мало дьявола." _She frowned, and leaned forward, "What did you say, Father Slade?" Slade blinked, frowning, and turned to her, gazing at her in slight confusion. He certainly didn't remember saying anything. . . "What?"

"You just said something. I didn't understand what it was," she said, blinking at him. He frowned, and turned his eye to the ceiling, thinking hard to recall what he must have said. Then he blinked, remembering his slight slip of the tongue, and turned, smiling calmly at her, "Oh, I was just saying 'bloody little devil'. It's a thing you say whenever you're frustrated with something. At least, it is where I come from. It doesn't mean anything bad, Little Slash. Don't worry." Turning, he lifted himself up on his tip toes again, moving his arms back into the closet and tugging on the object. "Where are you from, Father Slade?" Slashera asked, tilting her head to the side, "Was it somewhere around here? I've certainly never heard that phrase before." Slade frowned, still facing the object he was trying to get down, it being a little big. It seemed to him that it had been a lot easier to put it up here on the shelf than it was to take it down. . . "No, no Little Slash. It was nowhere around here. It was somewhere far, far away." She gave a small "Oh", and then fell silent again, and he began to tug on the object a little harder, tilting it at a different angle, careful to not cause any damage to it, and. . . He grinned, "Alright, now I've got it." He slid the object from the closet, it being inside a long paper bag, before turning to her, smiling, and walking over. She sat up straighter, grinning, "What is it?"

He knelt down before her on his left knee, with the other knee propped up in front of him, and settled the covered four foot object between the two of them on the top of his knee. He smiled at her, "It's something that we'll put on your wall. Then, we'll put some of the animals you hunt on top of it." With that, he slid off the bag, and as Slashera stared in awe of it, he smiled calmly and proudly down at the object. He'd carved the original design that was on it himself, and had then had someone make copies of the object. It was a nice long softwood shelf that had been stained so that it was of the same coloring of her furniture in her room. It had a nice, flat top, but what was underneath that, between the two smooth concave mounts for the shelf, was what he was so proud about. It was a long plank of wood that stretched the full length of the shelf. In the center of it, in a round oval, was a very ornate looking Old English S, and around that oval were various carvings made to look like deer, wolves, raccoons, bunnies, birds, and fish interwoven together with the branches of trees also scattered about the carving on the piece of wood. Slade had enjoyed creating such a carving, and was quite proud of it. Right beside the S oval, was a carving of the massive stag that inhabited his woods that he loved so much.

He had spent many hours practicing carving that particular animal, wanting everything to be perfect, before finally deciding that he was ready to add the creature to the shelf's design. He turned to Slashera, smiling, "Do you like it?" She turned to him, having run her fingers along a doe close to the mount on the right side of the shelf, a small fawn leaping beside its "mother" in the design, and grinned, "Father Slade, it's gorgeous!" Slade smiled at her, "Good. I made it just for you." Her face broke out into an even bigger grin, and after setting Peter down on the bed, the child wrapped her arms around Slade's neck, hugging him tightly as she stood up to do so. He chuckled, set the shelf down on the bed, and wrapped his arms around the child as she murmured, "Oh, Father Slade! Thank you! Thank you so much!" She leaned back and kissed him on the cheek, grinning at him. He smiled, "And there are plenty more already made if you need them. Now. . ." he stood up, smiling down at the girl smiling right back up at him, "Let's go put it up in your room!" she grinned, nodded, and grabbed Peter by wrapping her fingers around the rabbit's midsection as Slade picked up the shelf with one of his own hands, and the two turned and walked out of the room.

Ten minutes later, Slade was making sure that the nails he would be putting into her wall would be level, kneeling on her bed with his shoes off, ready to put the shelf in the center of the wall three feet over the headboard of her bed. He frowned, measuring the length required for the shelf's hangers with some measuring tape, turning his head from one side to the other as he did so. Slashera blinked, staring up at him from where she sat with her legs flopped over the side of the bed, Peter currently resting on her bedside table for the moment. The shelf sat on the bed behind her, and between her and Slade lay a large work apron full of tools which Slade had gotten from a shelf above the washer and dryer in their small room. Slade frowned, blinking, and using a light gray colored pencil from a pocket of his pants, put a small X at where he was guessing the nails needed to go. Turning, he held out his hand, smiling at the girl, "Can I have the level now, Little Slash?" She blinked, and turned to the tools set out. And grasped the long red painted metal tool that was set apart from the bag, and turning, handed it to him. He smiled calmly, taking up the carpenter's level, "Thank you." The man quickly pressed it against the wall, blinking, studying the air bubbles inside the fluid chambers of the device, the level set right on the X's. . .

Slashera blinked, watching the man work, her arms folded in her lap. She had no idea what he was looking at or what he was striving for. . . she turned to the shelf, and ran her fingers over some of the creatures again. Then ran her fingers over the S in the center. It truly was a beautiful thing. And she was really grateful that Slade had been so kind as to give it to her . . . she smiled. First Peter and now this? She turned to Slade as he lowered the level back down with a slight nod. The man turned, smiling, to the child, "Nails?" She turned to the two that he'd set aside from the tool bag, and gripping them, turned and placed them into his outstretched hand, taking the level from him as she did so. Moving the nails to his right hand, which was further away from the child, Slade smiled at the girl, moving the hand that was closest to her back out and open-palmed, waiting for the next tool to be placed within it, "Hammer?" She blinked, nodded, and handed him that tool as well. "Thank you," he said, "You're a very good little helper, Little Slash." Turning, he began to hammer at the wall, a frown set on his face, determined to make the end result perfect.

At first Slashera jumped at the sound of the nail being driven into the wall, but soon she settled down to it. Finally, Slade gave the second nail one last whack from the hammer, and then sighed, leaning back, his hands on his hips, "Alright . . . moment of truth. . ." he turned and smiled at her, "Time for the shelf!" She grinned at him and nodded. And leaning down, he picked up the object delicately, turned to face the wall, and set the hangers on the back of the shelf's mounts over the nails, sliding the shelf firmly in place. Giving it a small tug, he confirmed that it wasn't going to budge before resting back on his heels, smiling at it for a moment before turning to her, "One more test. . ." He picked up the level, then turning to the shelf, leaned up and rested it on top of the wooden surface. He smirked, "Perfect." Picking up the level, he climbed off of the bed and stood back from the piece of furniture, gazing at the shelf. Slashera grinned. "It's so beautiful, Father Slade!" "How about we put Peter in the middle?" Slade said, moving around to the bedside table and picking up the rabbit. Slashera nodded, grinning as the man put the rabbit in place in the dead center of the shelf. Slade took another step away, and smiled, "Well? What do you think? Is it a good home for him?"

She smiled, "It's perfect! But. . ." she frowned. The rabbit did look very lonely up there . . . with at least a foot and a half on either side of it. . . "But what?" Slade said with a frown, searching the fixture for any sign of a fault. "He looks so alone up there," Slashera mumbled. Slade smiled calmly, "Don't worry about that, Little Slash. You'll track and hunt more friends for him in order to keep him company in no time. And when this shelf is filled up, we'll just move on to another one, and then another one. Whatever it takes to show off all of your pretty animals. Because whenever I'll see them. . ." He turned to her, and smiled as the child turned, frowning, to gaze up at him. He grinned and reached out, ruffling her bangs, _"I'll remember just how proud I am of you." _he murmured warmly. She grinned, "Really?!" "Really," he confirmed. Then turning, the man picked up all of his tools, "Alright. . . I'm going to go take this back and then. . ." he frowned, glancing at her alarm clock . . . 10:00 AM . . . he turned to her, and then smiled, "How about we look at some books I have here? They have lots of pictures of animals inside of them." Slashera grinned, "THAT SOUNDS GREAT!"

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**A/N: **So, as far as chapters go, this has to be my chocolate soufflé with a strawberry/raspberry and sprinkled sugar on top. At least for this story anyway. Very light, very fluffy, and hopefully, a joy to take in. Something that I really wanted to give to those who have been reading this entire story. It really was fun to write, to be completely honest.

Since there was a lot of dialogue between Slashera and Slade in this chapter, I did hope to minimize any grammatical errors, and tried my hardest to make sure that the grammar and spelling was correct throughout. But, if you do notice something, please either message me or write a review pointing out such a thing. I really want to improve with my writing, not sink lower, and if I am notified by you about a mistake that I've made, I will edit and correct it.

So, overall, what did you think of the chapter? Please, if you have anything you'd like to comment on or just something you really liked about the chapter, write a review! I love to get them and they really encourage me to continue to post chapters at a timely pace!

Whether you write one or not, however, the next chapter is for the most part finished (it was actually mean to be posted along with this one, but it was too long for my liking and I decided to just separate the two chapters), and just needs to be proofread and reviewed by me before posting.

Oh, and FYI, the phrase Slade said in the chapter was said in Russian. I am not Russian. I must admit that I used a translator on my computer to accomplish such a task as writing out the phrase.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, and therefore I do not own Slade. I also do not own Batman, and therefore I do not own Bruce Wayne.**

**A/N: **Sorry I haven't been able to update this any sooner. I've had a lot of school to have to work with. Now, though, I'm at a point where I could stop working on my experiments for college and studying and proofread this chapter before posting it. I did my best to make it a very good chapter, and hope that you all like it! I will try to get the next chapter out soon as well! So, without further ado, enjoy!

I want to give special thanks to **TwilightCat4682**, **Transparent Existance**, **finalfan21**, and "**Guest**" for your reviews and comments! I'm happy to know that not only do you like it, but that you are also thinking about the story and are reviewing about it! Nothing encourages me more as an author as much as reviews of people who like my work. So please, continue! It is greatly appreciated!

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**Chapter 14**

Three hours later, Slade had decided that his kitchen table had _never_ looked quite so cluttered, not even when he'd had to repair a Slade-Bot on it once when his warehouse had not yet been built. The two of them had started off looking at the first of nine of Slade's animal books on the couch in the living room. The nine books contained large full color photos of various animals and their skulls. The books also held a little bit of basic information about each animal. Because of such extremely simplistic design and information, they were the closest things to children's picture books that Slade owned. Many of the books primarily contained animals that would be hunted or encountered in the woods of the North American continent. However, in one or two of them, there were pictures of more exotic animals, like lions, elephants, and giraffes. Along with the "picture books", Slade also had dozens upon dozens of books that consisted mostly of just text and diagrams concerning various animals, containing a vast amount of information about many animals of different species, genera, families, orders, classes, and phyla. Those information rich books covered creatures that ranged from insects to prehistoric beasts. Needless to say, the man was quite proud of his collection of animal books. He was in fact almost as proud of it as he was of his collection of books concerning history. Running close seconds to his collection of animal books were his collections of books about weaponry, fighting techniques, chemistry, and child psychology.

Because of such pride in his animal book collection, when he'd gone to the tall cabinet set in the far left corner of his living room, had opened it, and had gotten out the nine picture books, he'd been sorely tempted to grab the other thicker, leather bound books of the animal book collection which also resided in the cabinet . . . or at least one or two. But then he'd decided that since Slashera was just now talking to him again, he wanted to keep things simple and perhaps a little more fun for the child. He figured that that meant that he might not need to go into great detail about an insect's structure or a tiger's digestive system. Yes, he definitely felt like simplicity was the way to go. However, after forty minutes of looking at the picture books, the idea of keeping things simple had been figuratively thrown out the window.

Slade and Slashera had lounged on the couch and read through the first book. Then in the second book, Slashera had noticed that some of the animals they'd already looked at in the first book were repeated, but with different pictures. So then she'd asked if there were different pictures of the same animals in the other books as well. He had said yes and so then they'd started to go through all of the animals in the first book again and as they did that they had set out to find them in the other books, spreading all of the books out on the kitchen table. They'd moved the books to the kitchen table so that they'd have plenty of room to look at all of the books without having to really stack the books on top of one another on top of the smaller coffee table in the living room area or having to risk the books falling off of the surface of the coffee table due to it being overladen with the books. Slashera had been excited to learn how to use the index of each book to find the animals she desired to see rather than just go through the entire book looking for an animal that might not even appear in it, and therefore had quickly learned how to match the names up between the page that showed the animal in one book and the names listed in the indexes of the other books based on what letters were in the names. About halfway through all of the animals, she'd turned to Slade and asked him about a characteristic he'd listed for each one of the animals: the things they ate. She'd asked him how anyone could ever remember which group each animal belonged to, as in whether they were herbivores or carnivores or omnivores.

Slade had frowned for a minute, standing on the opposite side of the table from her, and had rubbed his beard thoughtfully. Then had answered, "I guess they make a list for each one of the eating types and then read over the lists over and over again until they finally remember the animals in each list without having to look at the lists." Slashera had blinked then grinned, "Father Slade, can we make some lists for you to read to me over and over again until _I _can remember the animals and what they are?" Slade had smiled at her, "Sure." With that he'd gone back to the living room cabinet again. There, he'd pulled out a graphing paper pad he used to sketch new Slade-bot designs on and three pens that were of the colors red, green, and blue. After ripping off the pages with the Slade-bots from the pad and putting them back in the cabinet on a high shelf, he had returned to the table and started the lists, with green representing herbivores on the left side of the first sheet of graph paper, blue representing omnivores in the middle of the sheet, and red representing carnivores on the right side of the sheet.

Now Slashera leaned over the table, gazing at the pictures of their most recently viewed animal: wolves. Then turned to him, "Is that all of the animals, Father Slade? Have we really looked at all of the animals in these books?" she asked, blinking. Slade smiled, standing on the right side of the child who was kneeling in her chair with her elbows and arms resting on the pages of the open book closest to her. He nodded, "Yes, little one. That's all of them." It indeed was. For, while finishing up finding some of the animals, Slashera had decided to check some of the more exotic animal books which until then they hadn't really looked in to find any animals beforehand. Slade had purposefully ignored such books in their search up to that point, since he did know that no forest animals would be found in them, but had not stopped her from looking in the books when she had actively sought to do so. The girl had stared in awe at all of the various, brightly colored creatures in the exotic animal books, and soon the two had taken a detour into the pictures of what Slade nicknamed "the exotics". "Can I see the lists?" she asked, holding out a hand. He handed her the pad, "It takes up about three pages."

She gazed at the pages as she flipped through them, at the words she was unable to pronounce printed neatly in relatively good handwriting upon the horizontal lines of the graph paper. She slowly moved to sit on her butt in the chair with her legs draped over the front end of the piece of furniture, as Slade slowly began to close the books and stack them into a neat pile in the center of the table. He couldn't deny that he'd had fun finding all of the animals with her, and was indeed happy that he had such a good variety in all of his picture books that it had drawn out the time required for their searching. Slashera finally turned to him, flipping the sheets of the pad over again until the top sheet was facing her, "Father Slade, do you think we'll ever see these animals for real?" Slade blinked, turned to her as he held the stack of books in his two hands, and smiled, "We might not see all of them, little Slash, but we will see a good amount of them." Turning, he headed to the cabinet, his shoes making thumping noises on the wooden floor of the cabin. She jumped off of the chair and followed him, still gripping the pad tightly in her hands, "Really? Do you think we could take pictures of them, Father Slade? When we see them? And do you think that we could put them on some pages and make a book all by ourselves with their pictures in them? With their names? Do you think we can do that?" Slade turned to her, took the pad from her before putting it in the cabinet, and closed the cabinet, grinning at the girl's obvious excitement, "Sure." The expression Slashera gave him was priceless, and easily Slade's favorite to receive from the child. It was an expression of pure excitement and happiness soaked in childlike innocence. It was a precious look that Slade always cherished, since he'd gone so long without seeing it in his lifetime. He smiled, turned, and walked off to the kitchen, "But first we need to eat, little Slash." She frowned for a little bit, but then forced a small smile on her face and followed him, though clearly not as excited as before, "Alright, Father Slade." After all, she knew what would happen after they ate. Hunting . . . she wasn't entirely happy about doing that . . . but still, she knew that the more she hunted, the easier it would get. So she was willing to go ahead and do it.

An hour later, the two had eaten some roast beef sandwiches and drunk some water. Slade had quickly braided Slashera's hair down her back, the two had put on their shoes, and after Slade had grabbed their two bows and quivers of arrows from the lattice surrounded area underneath the porch while she was using the restroom, the two set off with a gallon jug of water in Slade's left hand, their bows in each of their right hands, and their quivers strapped to their backs. Slade frowned at the slight chill in the air, turning his head from side to side and gazing around at the woods. He was vaguely wondering why it was so chilly this time of year. Sure, it was getting later on in the year, but he hadn't expected for it to be so late that it would be like this . . . maybe winter was just coming early to his forest . . . the man sighed, shrugged, and continued to walk on.

Thirty minutes later, Slade learned the real reason why there was a chill in the air as a single rain drop hit the end of his nose. Tilting his head back, he frowned at the white clouds, as about six more drops fell. Slashera also lifted her head back, as the drops of water began to hit her, "Father Slade, what's going. . ." the last of her words were drowned out, as a large sheet of rain drops bombarded them, showering them in the cold water. She squealed, and was instantly at his side, clutching his hand tightly, staring up at the rain as it soaked her hair and face. Her hair around her face was flat against her cheeks, and she slowly turned to him, "Father Slade, it's raining." He frowned down at her, blinking, and nodded, "That's right." He turned and gazed up at the sky. It hadn't rained once since they had gone to the cabin. He had started to wonder if it ever would. . . She gripped his arm tightly, and buried her face into his side, "I don't like the rain. . ." she whimpered. He frowned and turned to her, "Why is that, Little Slash?" he whispered, the rain continuing to pour hard upon them. She turned to him, tears streaking down her cheeks along with the rain drops, "O-one time me and mommy, we-we were at a market and the rain started to pour. And then there was lightening and thunder, and . . . and we had to run and try to get a yellow car to get into, and it was so loud and scary, and . . ." she sobbed weakly, and tilting her head down to gaze with teary eyes at the mud beneath her feet, gripped his arm even tighter, _"I don't like it. . ."_ "But there's no thunder or lightning here, little one, just water. . ." Slade whispered, and then a thought occurred to him. And he smiled. He had a way to convince Slashera that the rain wasn't so scary. . . "In fact, we can even play in it." She frowned and turned to him, _"P-play in it?"_ she whispered. He smiled and nodded, "Come on." He turned, and began to walk onward, the rain letting up a little and not hitting them as hard or as constantly, leading her by pulling the child along by her hand.

Finally, they walked into a large clearing. Slashera immediately recognized the targets for their archery at the other end of the clearing. And turned to him, blinking, "Are we going to shoot at them today?" He chuckled and shook his head, smiling at her, "The rain would be like the wind. It'd throw our arrows off balance and we wouldn't be able to aim very well . . ." He knelt down before her, and held out his hand, "Hand me your bow and your quiver of arrows, little one." She handed them to him, and watched as the man turned and rushed over to the hay bales with the target tarps on top of them. Reaching the one closest to where he'd been standing with Slashera, the man gripped a long metal pin that he had used to hold the tarp down over the hay bale. The man had placed this particular pin in a location on top of the hay bale and now pulled it out. Sliding it into a back pocket of his jeans, the man then lifted the edge of the tarp that had been loosened by the removal of the pin and slid their quivers and bows underneath it before closing the tarp back down and pushing the pin back into place. He knew that the quivers and bows would still get wet, but at least by being covered under the tarp they wouldn't get as wet as they would have otherwise. Patting the top of the tarp with a smile, the man turned and smiled at Slashera. The girl frowned, watching him, waiting about ten feet away since she'd followed him over to the hay bale area. Walking over to the girl, he smiled at her, and held out his hand, "Ready to play?" She blinked and frowning, looked up at the rain pouring down from the clouds up above apprehensively for a moment. Then turned to him, "We're going to have fun, right?" He smiled and nodded. She smiled and put her hand into his, "Then let's play!" He grinned. Turning, he began to run in the rain, holding her hand firmly in his.

In no time, he was jogging through the wet grass, head thrown back, laughing. And beside him Slashera hurried to keep up, laughing as well, Slade's own enjoyment feeding her own. Letting go of her hand, Slade threw his arms out to his sides, letting them hang there palms open and to the sky, laughing and feeling the cool refreshing water hit his face. He built up his speed and quickly did a flip in the air, kicking hard off of the ground, his arms tucked in to his body. Landing firm on the balls of his feet and maintaining his balance, the man took off again, leaping high into the air every now and again, laughing and grinning up at the clouds that were emptying the rain down upon them. It had been so long since he'd played like this in the rain! He couldn't even remember the last time he'd done this . . . but it must have been in his childhood. And despite him knowing that Slashera's training was his upmost priority right now, he had to admit that it felt good just to play around again like this. Besides, what else could he do? Stay in the cabin some more and watch the rain fall? They'd been in the cabin all day already. He'd had enough of that place for the moment. Turning, he gazed at Slashera and smiled, seeing her running a little in her own direction. She was leaping and skipping and having fun in the rain, her mouth open and tilted up, her tongue sticking out as she twisted and turned and had fun. The man laughed and decided to throw his own head back, just for the heck of it, holding his mouth open as well. The child was letting the fresh water hit her tongue. Why couldn't he do the same?

Slashera smiled, feeling the water hit her face. She never would have thought of playing in the rain! But it was so much fun! It reminded her of kids she'd seen in other small yards behind the houses around the one she'd lived in with Mommy and Bruce, playing in their families' water hoses. The hoses had either been held by their parents or other kids and had just sprayed water on the kids as they'd run around, or had been hooked up to a sprinkler that would sit on the ground and shoot jets of water up into the sky for the kids to then run through. It had looked like they were having so much fun, and she had asked her Mommy if she could go and play. Eleanor had commented that she was too young to go play with those kids just yet. Slashera had pointed out that she did see a lot of younger kids playing around with the older ones. She'd gone on to point out that the younger kids were close to her age and so she didn't see why she couldn't play too, but Eleanor had just shaken her head and told her that those kids were in the same family as the older ones and that that was why they were able to play. She'd then said that since Slashera was not in their families, she couldn't play with them. But Slashera had pressed on, commenting that she'd seen some of the younger kids' mommies and daddies drop them off at the older kids' houses, and so they couldn't possibly be in the same family. After all, they didn't have the same mommy and daddy as the older ones. Then Eleanor had fallen silent. Slashera had pressed further, asking once more if she could go play with the other families and hoping her mommy would say yes, but then Eleanor had told her that she was being a bad girl, and that since Eleanor had already said "no", Slashera was being very bad because she was asking again if she could go. Slashera had mumbled a quick "I'm sorry" to her mother, and Eleanor had made her promise not to ask her again.

Since Slashera had been unable to go to the other kids' houses to play, she'd decided to try to get to do the next best thing, and had asked Bruce if she could do the same as the other kids were doing with their family's water hoses with her own family's water hose. The man had looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading and had scoffed and told her that that was stupid and wrong. He had said that it was a waste of water.

Now Slashera stopped and stood in the rain, her head tilted back, her mouth open, her eyes closed, pausing just to feel the water racing down her tongue and over her face and body. Well, now it wasn't a waste of water, was it? After all, it was going to come down anyway, wasn't it? That was what rain did. It didn't matter if you were outside in the rain or inside away from the rain. It was going to pour. She knew that because many days she'd sat inside her room, gazing out the window as the rain poured. Back then she'd wished that it would go away. Now she didn't want it to stop.

Slashera now wished that Bruce and her Mommy would have shown her how she could play in the rain. Like Father Slade was doing. She thought that maybe then she wouldn't have been so scared of it and would have been able to play in it back then too. But deep down, she had a feeling that Bruce would have said playing in the rain was stupid or wrong too. He seemed to think that most of the things Slashera wanted to do were stupid and wrong, whether he gave a reason for them being stupid or wrong or not. As the rain poured down upon her, Slashera let out a little sob of sadness, tears racing down her cheeks along with the rain water. Bruce had never seemed to like any ideas she had or anything she said she wanted to do. Whether it was going out to eat with him and Mommy like he and Mommy would do sometimes with their friends, or just going to the shopping mall nearby and looking around and shopping like she had heard of other women her mommy knew doing with their babies, he always seemed to only have one thing to say: No. It seemed Slashera could never do anything right when it came to Bruce. She'd wanted to make him happy, she really had! But anything she tried he just didn't like. Slashera frowned down at the mud for a moment, sighing. Yes, Bruce would have definitely said that this was stupid and wrong too, she decided, as the water ran off her face and dripped onto the ground. _After all, it was something she was enjoying . . . and anything she enjoyed, Bruce always didn't like. _It seemed he had never been happy with , she turned, and gazed at Father Slade running around in the rain, the child sniffing a little, some more tears still racing down her cheeks.

But Father Slade certainly didn't think of it as stupid or wrong, because he was doing it. She smiled. And if Father Slade didn't think it was stupid or wrong, it wasn't stupid or wrong! She knew that he loved her more than Bruce did, and knew that to him, she could do things right. And now she was with him. So it didn't matter what Bruce thought anymore! It didn't matter what he thought was stupid or wrong! Because she didn't care what he thought anymore! All she cared about was what Father Slade thought! And since he thought that this was fun . . . Grinning, she gave a high leap and began to run again, laughing, head thrown back, her hands held out at her sides. THEN IT WAS FUN!

It had been a few minutes of running into the rain when Slashera realized something. She hadn't seen or heard Father Slade for a while . . . she frowned and stopped, looking around for him. But she was unable to see him. Suddenly, she realized that she had gone far away from the hay bales now. . . Slade must still be nearer to them. So if she went over there, surely he'd be there! Turning around to face them, ready to run over to them to look for him, the girl grinned. There he was! Running right near the hay bales. She grinned and began to jog over to him, and opened her mouth to call out to him, happy to have found him . . . She screamed, sliding quickly to a stop, staring with wide eyes, her heart stopping in her chest as she saw his body slip, his feet shooting out from underneath him. She jolted a little as he slammed hard into the muddy earth on his back, making a loud thud. She saw the mud and water fly up around his body as he splashed into the soaked earth.

Her breath was coming in quick gasps, and her heart beat quickly in her ears as she stared in shock at the sight before her . . . she clenched her fists and brought them to her chest, her eyes wide, staring at the body as she shook. She mentally willed for him to get back up, to show that he was alright. But all he did was lay there, not saying anything, not moving . . . and he certainly wasn't getting up. . .

Worry and terror gripped her heart and Slashera rushed over, "FATHER SLADE! FATHER SLADE! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" she gasped, and finally stood at his side, the rain pouring down, gazing down at him with her onyx eyes filled with fear. She stared at his face, his eye and mouth closed, the rain water running down his face in rivers, some mud in his white hair. He still lay motionless on the ground . . . she bit her lip and slowly knelt down, her entire body shaking. Slowly, shakily, the girl reached out, pushing some of his hair off of his forehead, "F-father Slade?! Please be okay! You have to be okay! You have to. . ." Suddenly, his eye shot open, and he smiled at her.

She stared, eyes wide in surprise, then squealed as he shot up and turned her over quickly, kneeling over her, his knees straddling her young form, his hands tickling her sides. Slashera squealed, writhing on the ground, head thrown back, laughing hard as he tickled her. Slade grinned, smiling, and tickled her for a few seconds more before he stopped and stood up, gazing up at the sky above. For a moment Slashera just sat up, propped up on her elbows, her legs flat out and straight in front of her, blinking up at him, breathing hard a little. Then the man whipped his head down and grinned at her before he gripped her underneath her arm pits and swung her up, letting go and letting her fly freely up a little in the air in front of him for about half a second. The girl squealed and gripped his arms tightly, gazing into his face with excitement and surprise in her onyx depths, not wanting to let go of the man completely, before he caught her under her armpits again and then lowered her to the ground, smiling at her.

Suddenly, her whole demeanor changed and Slashera frowned at him, and put her hands on his hips, cocking one hip and her head to the side, "That wasn't very funny, Father Slade. I was really worried about you!" she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Slade smiled weakly at the child. He had to hold in his laughter at being scolded by such a young girl, "I'm sorry little one. I didn't mean to scare you. . . Let me make it up to you. . ." She frowned, "How?" she cocked her head to the other side. "Like this!" he said with a grin, and leaning down, he picked her up by her upper arms and began to twirl her around him as he held her firmly in his grasp, her legs flying out about her, flinging water and mud everywhere. Her hands held tight to his arms as she squealed, grinning up at him as he twisted and turned with her, and he chuckled. Gripping her arms even tighter, he flung his arms up, sending her flying up in the air, her feet flying out into the rain. Then swinging his arms down, he ducked her down, so that her legs went between his. Keeping a firm hold on her arms to keep her safe, he twirled her around once more in a circle about him, before settling her back down on her two feet, smiling calmly down at her.

She grinned at him, breathing hard, excitement in her eyes. He chuckled and leaning down, quickly scooped her up to hold her to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs draped over his sides as he wrapped his arms firmly around her to hold her in place. She grinned at him as she gazed into his eye, still trembling in excitement as he held her there. Clearly, the worry she'd felt before was gone. He smiled, breathing hard just a little, "So, do you forgive me?" She grinned, "I forgive you." "Good," he said, nodding firmly. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, pressing a kiss to his wet skin, _"I'm sorry for getting angry, Father Slade. I just. . . I didn't know you weren't really hurt. . ." "I know, little one, I know," _he murmured, reaching up with one hand and rubbing the back of her head comfortingly, "_And I forgive you for being angry. I'm actually quite happy you cared so much for me." _she grinned.

Blinking, he moved his arms a little, giving her more room to lean away from him, _"Slashera?" _She leaned back, frowning curiously at him, as he continued, "Now we need to go back, okay? So that we don't get sick out here." She frowned, and looked back up at the sky, "We can get sick?" He frowned and nodded, "Yes. You see, a little bit of rain is alright, but too much can be bad. . ." "Then we need to go. . . I don't wanna get sick. . . don't wanna take any more shots. . ." she whispered, frowning at the rain as she tilted her head back even further to look at it all. He blinked, frowning. He really didn't think she'd need a shot if she got sick with a cold . . . but considering the last time she'd gotten sickly and had needed multiple shots, he could understand her worry. And quite frankly he couldn't blame her, because to him the only good shot was one that you didn't have to take.

"_Right. So let's go back," _he murmured. She nodded, and leaned in, pressing her face into his shoulder, her arms looped around his neck once more. Blinking, he walked over to the hay bale, and shifted her to just one arm as he pulled out the pin, stuck it in his pocket, and got their quivers and bows. Handing them to her to hold as she shifted and twisted around so that her right hand could accept the archery equipment, he turned around and put the pin back in place before placing the arm he'd used to move the stuff around back around her, shifting her so that she was once again held by both of his arms, "Just hold those until we get back, alright Little Slash?" She nodded, and held the objects behind his back as she looped her arms once again around his neck, careful not to hit him with the bows or arrows or quivers. She rested her head on his right shoulder and heaved a deep sigh, fluttering her eyes closed to wait for them to go back to the cabin. She felt him cradle her head a little with one hand as he turned and began to walk towards the woods again and out of the clearing. As his fingers softly rubbed her wet damp hair, she rolled her head over to the side, pressing her cheek against his wet shirt, and began to doze, the rhythm made by his steady walking causing her to drift off to sleep as the rainwater ran down her face.

That night, after the two of them had taken hot showers, gotten dressed in a white muscle shirt and blue jeans for him and a dark blue muscle shirt for her, put their wet clothes in the washing machine, and eaten some venison chili and fresh cornbread that he'd made, Slade tucked Slashera in and headed down the hall to his room. The man yawned as he entered his room, rubbing the back of his soft, now clean, snow white hair, trying to decide on what to do the next day. Should he continue on with their current cycle of activities and just hunt in three more days or should he just take her hunting since they didn't do that today? The slight change wouldn't hurt anything. . . They'd just restart the cycle again . . . as if this day didn't count. The man was pondering this as he brushed his teeth and slipped out of his pants, revealing the warm silver plaid boxers underneath. Groaning, he moved to the bed, rubbing his full stomach, ready for sleep, his eye half-lidded. He would definitely sleep well that night. . . After all, he hadn't slept at all the night before. He sighed and put a hand to the surface of the bed, and turning his head, gazed out at the rain still falling outside, pausing. He blinked and yawned again. Well, whatever he was going to do, he could decide in the morning. He definitely wasn't going to decide anything right now other than how fast his head would hit his pillow.

Just as he was pulling back his sheets to get into bed, his lamp being the only light on in the room, the door to his room creaked open. He frowned and turned to it, gazing tiredly at the figure standing there, gazing at him, and rubbed his eye, grunting slightly, "Little Slash? What are you doing? Why aren't you asleep?" She frowned, and her eyes darted down to the floor as she bit her lip, clearly nervous. He frowned and turning to her walked over, to stand right before her, gazing down at her, "What is it little one?" he whispered, blinking down at her. He was unable to figure out why she wasn't asleep. Surely she was as tired as he was! That light nap on the way back couldn't possibly have made much of a difference. . . She looked up at him, and he saw the fear and worry in her onyx eyes, _"B-bad dream,"_ she whispered. He frowned, "Already?" _Damn, and here I thought people didn't dream so early after falling asleep . . . well, guess I better double check . . . _he thought with another yawn.

She shook her head, gazing at him pleadingly with tears in her eyes, "N-no, not yet . . . but I'll have some . . . we didn't go hunt today . . . you said that the more that we hunt, the easier it will be for me to sleep . . . the less bad dreams I would have . . . but we didn't go today, so it'll be the same . . . the same as last time. . . I know it. . . F-Father Slade, _could I sleep with you?" _she had tears streaking down her face freely now, gazing up into his face, shaking all over, "_You always make the bad dreams go away. . . I . . . I don't want to have bad dreams tonight. Please let me sleep with you Father Slade, please?" _He frowned, blinking at the child, and began to rub the back of his head again as he thought it all over. _ "I . . . I know I'm just supposed to sleep by myself now that I'm older, but I'm so scared Father Slade. . . will you please sleep with me? Please?" _she whimpered, her eyes pleading desperately with him. He blinked down at her, then smiled weakly and nodded, "Very well, little one. You can sleep with me for tonight. Just go get in my bed while I go and turn off your alarm clock. So that you won't have to get up to go across the hall to turn it off tomorrow."

The girl smiled in pure relief, then darted around him to clamor onto the bed. Slade walked across the hall slowly, blinking, and after entering her room, picked up the alarm clock and easily turned it off. Normally he wouldn't allow her to sleep with him, not with her at this age. But since they hadn't gone hunting today, he could understand her worry. So he would allow her to sleep with him tonight. Besides, the fact that she was scared because of not hunting also confirmed that he would for sure be taking her to hunt tomorrow . . . that made that decision all the easier. Turning, he closed her door as he headed back across the hall to his room, to find her already curled up beneath the sheets on the left side of the bed, her head resting on his left side's pillow. He smiled weakly and walked over to the lamp on the nightstand on the right side of his bed.

He had expected her to be fast asleep, but instead, she blinked at him as he picked up his own alarm clock, "Thank you, Father Slade." He smiled and nodded at her, "No problem, Little Slash. I get bad dreams too. I know how scary they can be . . ." he crawled into bed at that, and laid on his side, facing her, yawning, the lamp now off. Her eyes widened, staring at him, "You get bad dreams too, Father Slade?" He smiled sleepily at her, and bent an arm behind his head on the pillow, laying on it, his eye half lidded now, "Of course I do . . . everyone does." He paused to yawn, eye shut tight. Then fluttered it open, smiling weakly at her. She blinked, "Who do you sleep with to make them go away then?" "No one. You see, they do come, but they don't stay long. . . I scare them off, remember?" he winked at her at that. She grinned, "Right." He smiled and yawned again, and closed his eye, snuggling a bit against his arm, muttering sleepily, _"Now don't forget to wake up when the alarm in here goes off tomorrow. . ."_ she nodded, blinking up at him, and snuggled closer, up against his chest, curling up against him under the covers. He gave a deep sigh, and wrapped his left arm over her protectively, holding her tightly against him. Soon, her breathing was indicating to him that she was asleep and the man sighed, letting himself fall into the dark abyss of his own dreamless sleep to the tip tap of the rain on his window.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what did you think? Was it worth the wait? I know that this along with the last chapter (for the most part) have not been so much on the serious side, but trust me. The next chapter will. And this chapter did have the serious moment of Slashera completely (once and for all, pretty much) switching her loyalties to Bruce to her loyalties to Slade. She's already done it a lot in the past leading up to this chapter, but this final moment is a major turning point. Even if Slade doesn't necessarily know it occurred. On another note, I really liked the way she "scolded" him. That to me was funny. And so childlike and innocent.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans and therefore, do not own Slade/Deathstroke. He'd be too much trouble anyway lol. ;)

**A/N: **Okay, so, I really wanted to get this chapter out before now, but life happened, and life happened big time. . . I've not only been swamped with a lot of tests and school work and projects and experiments. . . I've also fallen and broken my knee cap this past week and potentially tore my ACL/fractured my patella/tore another muscle (I potentially did all three. no confirmations until Tuesday, though). So, between going to the doctors about that, trying to make sure that my teachers know why I'm missing school, and trying to find out what things I need to do to make getting around with a bum knee easier, it has been hard to find a time to finish this chapter up and proofread it for you guys. Also, the heavy pain killers they gave me that make it a little bit harder for me to focus and also tend to make me go to sleep really fast haven't helped with the proofreading process. ;) And every time I've gotten to read over it, I've added things and tweaked things to try to make it as good as possible for you guys. :) Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. Now, this chapter and the one that follows it (I've already gotten a good bit of htat written. I might even just get that finished today or tomorrow as well, but I'm not making any promises.) were originally supposed to be just one chapter, but after I added some things that I felt really needed to be in the chapter, I had to half it. Sorry. ;) But I think that you'll enjoy this, regardless! Or at least I hope you will! I know I'm proud of it!

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**Chapter 15**

The rabbit munched quietly on the grass of the forest floor, making as little noise as possible as it sat hunched over in the small opening it'd found amongst the otherwise dense trees. At every sound and scent the small creature's body twitched, whether with its ears or with its head. As a prey often had to be, it was attune to all dangers that could cause it harm. When one was a rabbit that was a long list of dangers to need to watch out for. Suddenly, a smell caught its attention, and it whipped its head around, blinking and with its nose twitching, to gaze at the woods that were just behind where it sat. All things in the forest seemed to still as the rabbit waited for its senses to provide more information regarding the intruder of its peace . . . There was movement in the brush and the snap of a twig. The rabbit wasted no time in getting away immediately, hopping and rushing quickly through the brush in an effort to get away from the threat. A doe walked out into the small area that the rabbit had been in, with another smaller doe following her. The two deer turned and watched as the fearful creature hopped through the woods, wondering how they could possibly pose such a great threat to the animal . . . seeming to not come up with an answer, the two deer lowered their heads to graze quietly on the grass at their feet.

The rabbit finally seemed to stop as it once more exited the dense forest into another small opening that was free of trees, and stood on its back legs, turning its head quickly, its nose twitching, picking up each smell. That had to be the third time an intruder had made him run that day! Of course, that was the life of a rabbit. It was hardly ever the predator, and always had to move to accommodate the presences of larger animals. Since it was young, the rabbit had known that it would always be the hunted, and hardly the hunter, and that because of that it always had to be ready to run . . . Such a life was a tiring one, but one that the rabbit had to come to accept nonetheless as its own. After all, a failure to adapt to such a life often led to one's death. Not finding any threatening scent on the wind and hearing no threat in the woods, only smelling and hearing the creek that flowed over river rocks not too far off, the rabbit settled down to eat some of the grass beneath its feet, hoping to have a longer stay here than at its last eating spot. This new area was a little bit smaller than the rabbit's previous eating place, with the trees closer to the small animal, but it would work . . . he knew that he couldn't be picky about where he ate . . . as long as there was food here and no current threats . . . In retrospect, the rabbit supposed it should be lucky that it had found a spot at all. Such a silent, small celebration was cut short however, because it was then that the rabbit heard it: the small snap of a tree branch. The sound of its funeral bells . . . Panic filled it once more, and the rabbit lunged forward off of its back haunches, intent on missing this funeral as he had missed all the ones that had almost gotten him before. . .

The arrow sliced through the air at a lightning fast speed and dug deep into the rabbit's side directly over its foreleg, sending the creature with a shriek against the forest floor. The rabbit's breathing became ragged and it began to writhe around the arrow that now sat nestled deep into its side. Blood flew and spilled out on the ground around the small creature, as it struggled desperately and vainly to get away.

Slashera blinked, walking into the small open area amongst the trees of the forest with an unreadable, emotionless look in her onyx eyes, breathing out lightly, her warm breath making a small cloud in the cold air around her face, gazing down at the tiny animal flailing on the ground, her face set in a frown. A dead raccoon, which she had already named Carl, hung, hogtied and wrapped in a white cloth, from a loop found at the waist of her jumpsuit. That had been her first kill of the afternoon . . . this would be her second. . .

"_You got lucky,"_ Slade murmured gently, walking out of the woods behind her, two rabbits and a raccoon tied to his own jumpsuit's waist, his words forming a cloud of air around his lips. She blinked and nodded, her eyes not leaving the struggling rabbit, frowning as the blood seeped into the grass as it exited from the slowing body. She heaved a deep sigh, waited until the rabbit paused in its struggles and movements, and leaned down and pulled out her arrow with a loud squelching sound. She didn't so much as wince at the sound as she turned and wiped a little of the matter that had gotten on the arrow from the rabbit's body off onto the grass, as the rabbit panted hard, its small beady eyes darting around wildly, terrified out of its mind. She refused to look at its eyes as she moved her arrow back up and slowly placed it in her bow. She refused to think of any babies or family the rabbit might have. She'd learned over the past few weeks that she didn't need to think on such things. After all, it was just like Slade had said once during their hunts: _"When a rabbit is dying by your arrow, it doesn't matter if it had a family or if it looks up at you with fear. There's nothing else you can do at that point but end its suffering." _And the last thing she wanted to do was create more suffering for the poor creature. Honestly, she wished she'd never have to make it suffer at all, but this is what had to be done. For food, and to ensure that Slade was proud of her. . .

"_You scared off the last one. You didn't pay attention to the way the wind was blowing or the amount of noise you made while approaching that rabbit. . ." _Slade muttered calmly, his single eye watching her back as she set the arrow and lifted her bow. She turned and gazed at him over her shoulder, _"I know, Father Slade. I'm sorry." _He tilted his head back, his arms crossed, blinking at her, frowning a little. She frowned back at him. She didn't like it when he frowned at her. That meant that there was something he didn't like. And all she wanted to do was make him happy with her. Proud of her . . . So she listened to what he had to say next, in order to know how to fix things, _"I've told you time and time again, Slashera,"_ he gave a sigh, closed his eye, and shook his head, his chin tilted down now. She bit her lip. She didn't like it when he did that. . . His eye opened and he looked at her head on,_ "You don't need to let them know you're there until you're ready to shoot your arrow. You were lucky that this rabbit was running around and making enough noise for you to be able to hear it. Otherwise, you would still be trying to track down another animal for your second kill." _

She blinked. Slade always hunted the first animals when they went hunting, and any number he decided to kill, she was to match in quantity before the two of them were to go back to the cabin. The kind of animals she killed didn't matter. It was just that if Slade killed two, then she needed to kill two. If Slade killed four, she needed to kill four. And if Slade killed one, then she only needed to kill one. Today, he'd killed three. So today she had to hunt down and kill three. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, rolling his shoulder blades back a little, _"Still, you did hear it. So you get to count it as a kill." _She blinked, relief filling her, and smiled weakly, _"Thank you, Father Slade." _He smiled weakly right back, _"Just don't expect to get so lucky next time." _She smiled and nodded, "_Right. I won't, Father Slade." _

She was happy that she only had to kill one more to satisfy her Father although she'd gotten better about killing bunnies and raccoons and had also become more willing to do so now, that didn't mean it was something she particularly enjoyed. What she enjoyed was the praise he gave her after she performed a kill. And then she enjoyed the fact that she was able to add more animals to the shelves that he gave her.

It had been 10 more hunting trips since when she'd killed Peter, and since then, Slade had had to put up three more shelves for the child, in order to hold all of her animals that she'd hunted down. She'd hunted down three raccoons in all, calling them Stripes, Berry, and Stormy, and had hunted down seven rabbits in all since Peter, calling them Penny, Cottontail, Skip, Rocky, Ears, Twitchy, and Bounce. While she didn't like to think about how she'd killed so many bunnies, she did find that with each one she killed her bad dreams did occur a little less . . . and Peter didn't seem so lonely on his shelf anymore. But even more than that, she knew that she was making Slade proud of her. And that mattered to her above everything else. Therefore she was able to smile on the morning of each hunting day when they put up the new animals that he'd sent off to someone to make into something that she could put up into her room, and she was able to smile even more whenever they would put up a new shelf at such times, knowing that Father Slade made the shelves especially for her by hand. One time she'd asked him how he'd made the shelves, and he'd explained to her how intricately he'd drawn out each design, and then how hard he'd worked at making sure that the carvings on the shelves would match each design he'd drawn perfectly. She'd been astounded and filled with joy at how much work he'd put into her shelves, and that only made her all the more willing to hunt down more animals to put on the shelves. Now, he smiled calmly at the child, and tilted his head to the side, "What are you going to name him?" She blinked, frowning. Slade always asked her this before she finished the kill . . .

Slade wasn't entirely sure when he'd decided to make a point of asking the child what she'd name the animals in the middle of each kill, but he was glad he'd decided to. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense: by naming the animals while she hunted them, he was already causing her to think ahead to when she'd get the animals after he'd sent them to the taxidermist. Of course, after the child got each animal, she'd put it on one of her shelves, to "keep the others company". So, by asking her to name the animals while she was killing the animals, he got her to think about what she'd get in return for hunting the animals down as she killed them. That would intensify that link, between killing the animals and getting to keep the animals, and therefore, help ease her sadness regarding killing them. Slashera frowned at first, unable to really think of a name, then smiled, "Well, you said I got lucky . . . so why not name him just that? 'Lucky'?" He smiled and nodded, "Sounds like as good a name as any, Little Slash. I like it." she smiled at him, and he smiled right back. The child's smile wasn't a smile that was full of excitement, per se, but a smile nonetheless. The man nodded, and motioned with his hand towards the rabbit, redirecting her attention back to the matter at hand, and the girl nodded in understanding before turning around and facing the animal once again. The rabbit wasn't making very large movements now, only shaking and shivering on the ground, its pleading eye seeking pity where it would be unable to find enough.

Slashera breathed hard, blinking. This wasn't her favorite part, seeing the rabbit so still yet not dead, its eye focused on her . . . accusing her of killing it. But how could she compare seeking its approval to seeking Father Slade's? After all, she'd known Slade for so long, while this rabbit, she'd only known for a little while. And it was like he had said before: the animal was going to die now anyway. If anything, she was helping it suffer less . . . taking in a deep breath, she aimed the arrow at "Lucky's" neck, knowing that a hit there would make the shaking creature bleed quicker and die faster. For a moment she focused her eyes on that neck, focused on her target, glanced at the end of her bloody arrow . . . ready to release. But in that split second before she released the deadly device, she flitted her eyes to the rabbit's, as she always did, and gritted her teeth at the black eyes of the creature, pleading with her, fearful. Despite wanting to please Father Slade, and despite reasoning that the rabbit would suffer less this way, she couldn't help but worry in this split second if it did have a family, if she was taking a father away from babies that loved him as much as she did in regards to her Father. . . She gritted her teeth at the thought, unable to imagine the pain she would feel if Father Slade was taken from her in such a way, unable to imagine the pain those little rabbits would feel at losing their daddy. Her heart ached for the rabbit, even though her mind informed her that this had to be done, and a sense of sadness flew over her onyx eyes. She sighed weakly, _"I'm sorry," _she whispered, with so much meaning behind that phrase that it was perhaps impossible for the rabbit to fathom what all she meant by those words. The girl didn't care though. She knew what Father Slade was waiting for . . . she knew what she had to do . . . she shut her eyes tight, blocking out the thoughts once more about the rabbit's potential children who would miss their father, and released her arrow.

The weapon flew through the air and slammed right into the rabbit's neck, meeting its mark spot on. And blood flew up from the rabbit's neck as the animal gave its final shriek. Her eyes opened at the shriek, and she gazed at the rabbit, her eyes once more emotionless.

Slashera didn't know how long she stood there, frowning at the creature, her eyes gazing blankly at it as more blood flowed out of the fresh wound, around her arrow's point, and onto the ground. She watched as the dark liquid further soaked into the grass, coating it in a deep crimson color. Watched as the rabbit's very life source dirtied the ground upon which it had been feasting just moments before. She blinked, watching as the rabbit died, with not even a tear racing down her face, waiting for Slade to tell her that it was okay to get closer to the animal. To touch it. To end it. The girl had long since stopped crying about such things as the death of one of the animals she hunted. She just had to think of Peter, and how happy he would be to have a new friend. That was all. She just had to think of something other than what she'd just done to this rabbit and its potential children. She chose to think of how proud Slade would be of her now, now that she'd driven in the last arrow. That was what the girl chose to think on as she stood there in the chilly air, waiting and hoping it would be soon when she could approach the rabbit and end the kill. She shifted her weight as she waited, gazing into the eye of the rabbit which gradually became duller and duller with each passing second.

Finally, the moment she'd been waiting for came. "Alright, Little Slash. It's okay. You may finish it," the man remarked calmly, blinking at the child's back. She nodded, blinking, and stepping forward, pulled her arrow out of the creature again, moving down to kneel before the body of the dead rabbit. She frowned, placing the arrow gently on the grass beside herself. Picking up the rabbit with her pale hands, the girl moved her left hand over its head, covering its eyes, and moved her other hand to grip it at the base of its neck. She sucked in a deep breath as she gripped it with both hands tightly, closed her eyes, and twisted. With a loud _snap!_, the rabbit's neck was broken. With that having been done, the girl leaned forward more, her eyes shooting open, her face full of determination. And she set to work.

Pulling from a pocket at the waist of her jumpsuit a small plastic bag that had been sealed by a machine Slashera blinked and held it up in front of her face. Since the day that she'd gotten Peter back, she'd carried little bags like this with her in her jumpsuit every time she hunted. Inside of it were a sterilized white cloth sheet and three separate lengths of strong rope. Blinking, she took the knife she used while hunting from another well-padded pocket on her waist and stuck it into one of the corners of the bag, breaking through that part of the sealed seam. Once she had punctured the bag a little, she pulled the knife along the seam, opening that side of the bag. Reaching inside with one of her hands, she pulled out one of the ropes. Setting the bag down beside her on the grass, the girl crouched even more over the rabbit's dead body and began to take the rabbit and hogtie its legs and neck together. She looped the rope skillfully around each body part, as she'd practiced multiple times before, her hands moving methodically and quickly over the body of the creature.

Slade blinked, watching as the young girl worked. In the five weeks that had passed since the day they'd played in the rain, it'd rained on many an occasion, so the two of them weren't able to follow their normal schedule on such days. Instead, they had done other things. On the days when they would be fishing, Slade would read to her the lists of herbivores, carnivores, and omnivores they'd made, and Slashera would try to repeat back to him as many as she could remember. And on the days when they would be hunting or training, Slashera had practiced on stuffed rabbit "toys" and later raccoon "toys" as well, hogtying the animals and putting a cloth around them that was much like the cloth in Slashera's bag in a very time efficient manner that ended with her being able to carry them around with ease at her waist. The toys had been an invention of Slade's, and were much like stuffed animals, but with more jointed areas that moved easily, and that imitated the animals in a very realistic way. Such things made the hogtying practice very much more lifelike for Slashera, and that was the intention all along. By now, the girl had gotten to where she could do it without his instruction. That made Slade especially proud, since such instruction had been required for every step of the process as she'd practiced on the toys in the beginning. Now she did it almost mechanically, without thought. And Slade couldn't have been prouder. She was progressing extremely fast now.

Now Slashera sighed, leaning back, gazing at the hogtied rabbit. She blinked at it for only a moment, before turning and picking up the sterile cloth. The girl frowned and turned the cloth over in her hands until she found tiny white string loops along the edges of the cloth. Slade smiled as he watched her find them. It'd been smart to create and invest in such a cloth . . . he'd been just sitting around one day, musing as to how to make tying up the prey he hunted easier and also to make the transportation of such prey back to his cabin less messy, when he'd thought of the cloth and its loops. He regularly used them, and as a helpful side effect, they made this part of hunting so much easier for Slashera, since the girl was still at such a young stage in her development. So while it was helpful for him, it was extremely efficient concerning her, and made transporting the prey so much easier for her. Due to these two facts, he had about 1000 small ready-made packages like the one Slashera was working with now in a cardboard box back at the cabin.

Biting her lip, Slashera took another length of rope and slowly threaded the rope through the rope tying the rabbit's legs and neck together and then threaded the same rope through the loops on the cloth as she wrapped the rabbit up in the parachute-style apparatus now formed by the cloth. Then, loosening her grip on the rope as soon as each loop had had the rope pass through it, she let the rabbit slide further into the parachute and take a little of the rope with it, so that its legs were full covered in the "bag" she'd created. She blinked, took the remaining ends of the rope she still held in her hands, and quickly tied that into a square knot above the folds of the bag. Turning, she gripped the last piece of rope from her plastic baggy, looped it around the square knot she'd made, and made another knot so that the rabbit would hang from the new rope, dangling in the air. Looking over the bagged and tied up rabbit one more time to make sure she hadn't forgotten to do anything, the girl frowned and turned to Slade, blinking, holding the bagged rabbit up in front of her, the object dangling from her bloody finger tips. Now there was some blood on the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her work with the rabbit, and the ropes and bag were now bloody as well. Slade smiled at the girl and nodded, "Very good. You may put it down now."

She smiled at him and sat it down, standing up before holding out her hands. Slade took out a travel size dispenser that was full of dishwashing soap from a pocket of his jumpsuit near his waist, and turning it over her hands, the man squirted the scentless bluish solution down onto her hands, "Now rub them together. . ." She nodded and quickly began to rub her hands together, so that the soap got everywhere. Once her hands were covered in soapy bubbles and were to his liking, Slade lifted from its rope on his waist a gallon jug of water. Uncapping it, the man poured a quarter of it onto her hands, washing most of the blood and soap off of the child's arms and fingers. As he watched the red and clear liquid streaming off of her hands and onto the forest floor, Slade blinked. He wasn't so obsessed with being clean after every kill if it was just him hunting alone, but Slashera often felt better once she was cleaned off. At least if she was cleaned off just a little bit. . .

Slashera sighed deeply, closing her eyes, as the water ran off the blood and soap. She felt good getting that off. . . Felt good about getting rid of that extra bit of evidence that showed the world what she had done. Slade then handed her a hand towel from another pocket he had. Or at least, that's what they knew it to be. Upon first impression the thing looked like a little square dry piece of paper. But when he put some water on it, the paper expanded into a towel ready to be used, which was a good foot by foot piece of cloth. She quickly got the excess water and any other blood off with the cloth, then turned to her bloody arrow and picked it up before she wiped some of the rabbit blood and entrails off of it until she was satisfied with it. Once she was finished with that, the girl slid the weapon back into her quiver. Once she'd used the now very bloody hand washing cloth to also clean off the rope from which the bagged rabbit hung, she tied said rope to a loop on her waist, then turned to Slade, blinking. The child knew not to ask if she could clean off her hands again. Slade was willing to let the girl clean them once after each kill . . . but twice? Now _that _would be just ridiculous. Slade smiled, scooped up the plastic baggy that had been around her cloth and ropes, stuffed her hand towel inside of it, and stuffed the entire bundle into one of his own pockets, "Alright, come on. You've got one more animal to find." She smiled, nodded, and the two headed off deeper into the woods.

One kill of a raccoon, Donna, later, and the two were back at the cabin. After they had both cleaned their kills and had taken a hot shower each, Slade gave Slashera, who at that point wore a dark grey muscle shirt, a picture animal book to look at on the couch as she sat on top its center cushion. Once the girl was looking at the book, he set about making a dinner of venison tenderloin, creamy herbed mashed potatoes, and lima beans in the kitchen.

The girl flipped through the pictures, gazing at the animals that were on the book's various pages, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed at the pictures. She was pretty tired, to say the least. It'd taken her a while to track down Donna, and it had been sundown when she'd killed the raccoon. She'd ridden on Slade's back when they'd gone back to the cabin again, she'd been so tired, and the two had had to use a strobe light he'd set up outside to clean their animals. She was surprised she hadn't fallen asleep doing that . . . Currently; she lay curled up in the deerskin blanket she'd grown very fond of over the past few weeks, having curled up in it many a time after taking her showers every night, and was very close to falling asleep. Seeming to note her tiredness, Slade glanced at the living room, "Little Slash? Care to help me? With dinner?" he called. She blinked, her eyes shooting from being almost closed to being wide open, and she clamored off of the couch, set the book on the table, and rushed into the kitchen, grinning, "Sure Father Slade! What do you need me to do?"

"Well, first you can get out some knives and forks for the two of us," he motioned to the silverware drawer. The child instantly set about taking the utensils out from their specified places in the drawer and putting them on the table along with napkins for both her and Slade. "Good job Little Slash," the man said with a smile. The girl grinned and walked over to stand beside him again, beaming up at him. Truth be told, the real reason he had her help him wasn't out of a need for the child's helping hand. The truth was that he didn't really want her to fall asleep and thus make him have to wake her up later for dinner. At those times, Slashera was rather groggy and not entirely coherent. The few times when he'd had to wake her up in such a way, a part of him had worried she'd fall asleep and then fall face first into her plate during dinner. Turning to her now, he smiled and lifted a spoon from the pot that he was making sauce for the tenderloin in. It was a nice red wine sauce. . . _Of course, spending time with Slashera is also a good part of having her help . . . _the man thought with a smile, as he blew on the liquid in the spoon before lowering it down towards her. _After all, that'll only build up her trust and loyalty in me more, which is a vital part of making her my apprentice later._ The man had to quickly add that last thought. After all, there couldn't be another reason for him to value her so much. . . He couldn't have another . . . that was how he'd designed her training . . . to avoid too much emotional attachment on his part. It was just that . . . she amused him! That was it! Yes! She amused him! '_And you like her innocence. Admit it . . . you miss the time when you had such innocence within yourself. You know that that makes you care for her more than you're willing to admit. You're just blinding yourself from seeing that.' _a voice in his head muttered. The man blinked twice to drive that voice to the back of his mind. No . . . he was keeping his emotions in check. He was in control . . . he always was . . . that's how he'd designed her training . . . it was!

"Taste this and tell me what you think. . ." he said calmly, despite the internal conflict his thoughts were clashing in, and held his hand underneath the dripping spoon. The girl, oblivious to the conflict raging within the man, leaned forward and sipped at the liquid. Then pulled back, grinning at him, licking her lips, "Yum!" He grinned, switching his focus easily from his conflicting thoughts to the present. He would think on those things later. For now, he would just make dinner and have fun with the child and focus on the here and now, "Thanks." Turning, he began to stir the sauce some more, then tasted some of it himself. The man frowned, "Huh . . . needs a little more salt. . ." He added some, stirred it into the liquid, then lowered the spoon back down so that she could taste it again, blowing on it as he did so, "Now taste it. Does it taste better?"

She did taste it, and although she didn't taste much of a difference, she grinned, "Yes Father Slade! Much, much better!" He chuckled, knowing fully well that the child couldn't tell the difference, and sipped the liquid himself.

Finding that the taste was in fact a little better and to his satisfaction, he smiled and nodded, "Yes, that is perfect . . . thank you Little Slash!" he turned and continued to cook. She grinned, happy because she felt she'd helped him, and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet before she frowned, looking around. Now that she had set the table and helped her Father with the sauce, the child really didn't know what she could do . . . he frowned, glancing at her. He knew that she wanted to help. He just had to think of something for her to do. . . "Why not cut up some potatoes once I peel them? For the mashed potatoes?" he asked, turning his head to face her fully. She grinned up at him and nodded, "OKAY!" About two weeks ago, she'd asked if she could help with cutting up potatoes for mashed potatoes and for soup. He'd given her some special gloves that would help protect her fingers from the knives' blades that she would use for the task, and he had taught her how to cut up the potatoes with kitchen knives. Now he was grateful he'd taken the time to show her how.

In no time he'd quickly peeled the potatoes and she was standing at the kitchen table with two bowls in front of her, one with the freshly peeled potatoes in it just waiting for her to cut them up, the other full of cut up pieces of potatoes. The girl blinked, frowning at them, her attention solely on the task set before her as she set to work at her new kitchen job. Slade smiled, watching as the girl cut up her first three potatoes. Then the man turned, gazing out the kitchen window at his darkened forest of night. Despite not wanting to admit that he had become more emotionally attached to the girl than he had originally planned, he couldn't deny that he liked this time he had come to spend with Slashera almost every night over in the past five weeks. Turning to the lima beans, he checked their taste, seasoned them some more, and then stirred them a little bit. At that moment Slashera carried the bowl of cut up potatoes over, with the now empty bowl that had held the uncut potatoes now stacked beneath the full bowl of little pieces of potatoes. Setting the two stacked bowls and their contents on the counter, she turned to Slade, "Father Slade, do you think we could have biscuits tonight?"

He blinked, frowning . . . biscuits would take a little extra time, but . . . but ever since he'd let her help him make them one night, the child really did enjoy making them. . . So he couldn't really say no . . . still, that didn't mean he couldn't try to get a bit more conversation out of the child. He liked very much to hear her perspective on things, after all. The man cracked a grin and turned to her, taking the bowl full of cut up potatoes from the counter and beginning to empty the potato pieces into a pot he'd already placed on the stove, using his right hand to guide the potato pieces into the large pot, "Biscuits too? Wanting to celebrate something, Little Slash?" he asked in an amused tone. She blinked, frowning for a moment as she contemplated his reply to her question and how she'd answer that reply, then smiled, "Well, we've had a good day today, haven't we? I mean, I got lucky!"

He laughed a little at her, but smiled calmly at her, beginning to bring the potatoes to a boil, "Now, now. Let's think about this: we should really consider it very good only if you worked hard for _all _your kills. Not just that you got lucky and didn't have to work hard for one. . ." He looked up towards the ceiling, frowning, "Actually . . . since you only had to work hard for two out of the three kills, and messed up one, we probably shouldn't have biscuits tonigh . . ." She gritted her teeth, knowing that she was losing the chance to make the biscuits, and leaning towards him, tugged at his arm, trying to think of a way to still get what she wanted, gazing up at him with big pleading eyes, "Come on Father Slade! You had a good day, even if I messed up! You got three kills _and_ worked hard for each of them! That should be plenty reason to make biscuits, don't you think?!" He chuckled, shook his head with his eyes closed, then turned to her, knowing it was time to give the child what she wanted, "Very well, little one. Besides. You did work extra hard at archery and for Donna today. . ." She beamed up at him.

After making sure everything on the stove and in the oven was alright and therefore enabling him to be away from the appliances for a while, the man turned and moved to the cabinets and refrigerator, taking down and out the ingredients for buttermilk biscuits. Quickly mixing up the various ingredients into a mixture that would be able to serve 4 biscuits, he turned to her, "Get the cutting board, little one. . ." She nodded, understanding, and turning to a nearby cabinet, took out a medium sized wooden cutting board. Gripping it tightly in her hands, she took it to the kitchen table. Moving over to the table with the bowl that he had used to mix up the biscuit dough, he set the dough in the center of the board after sprinkling flower on the wooden surface. Next he made sure that there was plenty of flour on her hands and on the dough. _"Okay, start to knead and work it around, Little Slash . . . so that we can pat it out and make biscuits,"_ he murmured, and turning, walked back to the counter, put the dough's mixing bowl in the sink, and continued to work on the other stuff for dinner. Slashera grinned and instantly began to work the dough with her hands. She loved doing this! She loved playing with the dough! But she was careful to keep the amount of playing she did at the right amount that Slade wanted . . . knowing that he'd get mad if she "overworked" or "underworked" the dough. She didn't really understand what those two things meant, but he'd shown her examples of each, so she knew when to stop.

Once the child was preoccupied with the dough, Slade let out a sigh as he worked at the stove, gazing down at the various pots he had set out that were cooking the components for their meal. As sweat beaded up on his forehead as a result from the heat of the pots, he licked his lips. Frowning, pausing in his work, the man turned to a cabinet nearby and took down a clear, small glass. Filling it with tap water from the sink nearby, he brought the rim of the cool object to his lips and closed his eye as he drank the refreshing liquid inside. Once he had drunk all that was in the glass, he sat the glass down on the counter and turned back to the pots. From the table, he heard the child giggling a little in excitement as she played with the dough. He smiled weakly. Knowing Slashera, she'd get flour on her. And he'd have to have her take another bath. But right now, he was willing to let the girl do what she wanted. After all-the man sighed deeply, and hung his head, closing his eye-they might be leaving the cabin tomorrow.

Focusing on the here and now still meant focusing on something that he wasn't so happy about. The thing was, he knew it was later in the fall season, and about to be winter here in his woods. He'd noticed the chill creeping into the air recently at a much faster rate than it had before, and knew that because of that the first snow fall was going to happen soon, if not tomorrow. And while _he_ could certainly stay in the cabin during the winter months and be just fine, he was unsure about letting Slashera do the same just yet. He didn't want the poor girl to get a cold, or worse, pneumonia or a fever. . . that would not only be a bad experience for her, but for him as well. When the child had gotten the rattlesnake bite, he had decided right then that that was the only illness type thing he really wanted to go through with her. So, he knew he needed to have the two of them head back to the warehouse soon, before the heavy snow fell, in order to avoid a situation such as her getting sick out at the cabin.

Slade frowned, and leaning down, checked on the tenderloin in the oven. Still, the fact that he'd be ultimately be ensuring that she wouldn't get sick again didn't make it any easier for him to head back to the warehouse. One reason for such a feeling was that he'd wanted to have her at least shoot her first deer out here during this first time they were at the cabin . . . but he'd taken his time, not wanting to rush her. That was because he understood how much of a large step it was for the child to take a life, even if it was just an animal's life. Therefore, he understood that he just had to push her forward a little bit at a time towards his final goal, gradually shaping her into what he wanted, rather than try to push her to do too much too fast and potentially lose all of the faith and trust and loyalty he'd built up in her during the past years. And so, as a result of that mentality and method, killing the deer would have to wait for their next time out at the cabin . . .

Slade still felt torn though, between his wants and what had to be done for the sake of training her up to be his apprentice. After all, while he did understand why he had to have the warehouse to do other parts of her training, and to help have a more controlled condition in which to mold her into what he wanted her to ultimately become, the man had to admit that he would rather be out at his cabin all of the time and just not go back to the warehouse. That was the other reason why he didn't want to leave the cabin. Still, that wasn't part of his plan, and so not going back was simply not an option now. Therefore he'd stick to his plan of action and would be sure to check his PDA that night, once Slashera was asleep, to see if he could see when the snow was going to come down for the first time in the area where his cabin was through the various satellites he'd hacked into for such a purpose. And, if the snow would only come after two days from tomorrow, he'd wait another day before packing up and leaving the cabin . . . but if it was coming earlier than that, he knew that they'd have to leave immediately, whether he wanted to or. . ."DONE!" Slashera said happily, and turning, walked over to where he stood at the counter, the child carrying the cutting board with the mound of dough sitting in the center of it, and set the entire thing on the counter, turning and grinning at him. He blinked at her, taking in the fact that some flour had in fact made it to her face, arms, shirt, and, miraculously, here legs.

He rolled his eye and grinned, "Yes . . . but is there more flour on you or on the cutting board, little one?" he teased. Kneeling down before her the man chuckled, grinning at her, and reaching up with a hand, used a thumb to rub a few specks of flour off from where they had settled under one of her eyes. She just grinned, some of the white substance now even in her hair. Sometimes, he had to wonder how the child could get the flour in so many places, when all she had to do was play with it and knead it . . . and other times he simply didn't really think he wanted to know. He chuckled some more, shaking his head but smiling at her to let her know he wasn't mad at her, "Go and take a shower really quick and get the flour off. . . I'll leave a new shirt for you on your bed. And when you're done, dinner should be ready to be eaten." She grinned, nodded, and turning, rushed down the hall to her room and then to her bathroom. Slade shook his head, closing his eye and chuckling before turning back around to face the counter. As he heard the faint sound of her shower as it was being turned on full blast, the man began to separate the dough and pat out the biscuits, having put some flour on his own hands in order to do such a task. And couldn't help but let a smile cross his face . . .

Well, maybe going to the warehouse again wouldn't be so bad. . . at least he now had a rather amusing person to keep him company while there. . . and besides, there were certain things they could do at the warehouse that could further prepare her for the tasks that would face her the next time they returned to the cabin. . .

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**A/N: **So, yes. A lot of thoughts and feelings and conflicting thoughts and feelings in this chapter, huh? And a good bit of action occurring. Sorry if you wanted more about Slashera's next kill after Peter, but I felt that showing the changes that have occurred in her was a much more effective way to write this chapter. If you felt differently though, feel free to review. I love reviews that tell me what you think. Not just one word things, but ones that speak your minds. That is a very important way by which I improve my writing skills. So please, review, review, review! And a special thanks to those of you who have stuck with the story! There should be a next chapter very soon! At least I hope!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. I do not own Slade. I do not own Batman. I do not own Bruce Wayne. But I'm pretty sure you already know that. :)

A/N: OKAY, SO I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY! I really did plan on getting this chapter out earlier, but let me tell you, it's been a time over here. I've had college to have to work with which took up a good 85% of my time. I have fallen and popped my knee out of place and had to have surgery to tighten a tendon and remove lose cartilage that was 1.5 cm long, and that and recovery alone has taken up another 13% of my time. Next, what with the holidays, and everything that life has tossed my way at me besides all the afore mentioned things, that filled out the final 2% of my time sufficiently. I literally have had no time to really sit down and work on this chapter, and I wanted it to be the best chapter 16 I could turn out to you guys, because I really appreciate those of you that have kept up with this story for so long. You truly are amazing. One of my muses (the "Mental Slade") hasgiven me the cold shoulder and has just been unresponsive during that time, if that makes any sense, and so I've had to spend some time this Thanksgiving getting "back in the mood" as it were to finish this chapter. For the most part, I am quite proud of it. I will give you fair warning: it might be an emotional roller coaster for you. It was for me. It can be exhausting to read. It was exhausting to read andwrite for me, but it was exhausting in a good way if it makes any sense. To me, it is an excellent chapter, definitely worth hte journey. It eludes a lot into the thoughts of Slade and Slashera, so be well prepared. It might make you sad, might be heart wrenching, and might make you just smile at times. I hope overall though, you enjoy the chapter, and like it, and that it's a good chapter.

**Also, I PERSONALLY DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO ****TwilightCat4682**. YOU HAVE FOLLOWED THIS STORY SINCE ITS VERY BEGINNING, AND HAVE ALWAYS OFFERED GREAT CRITICISM FOR IT! YOU HAVE HELPED ME GROW AS A WRITER, AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL FOR THAT! I TRULY HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

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**CHAPTER 16**

After they'd eaten their dinner and had put the two remaining biscuits in the refrigerator with Slade saying that they could heat them up to eat in the morning, the man tucked Slashera in after she'd brushed her teeth. The girl smiled sleepily up at the man as he pulled the covers up to her chin, and gave a yawn. He smiled back, "I think you'll sleep very well tonight, little Slash." She nodded in tired agreement, as he turned on her ceiling fan. It was the time of the year when it was so cold outside at night that the man had to keep her window closed. But to keep the room from being too stuffy, he did turn on the fan to help circulate air. As the fan began to turn above him, Slade couldn't help but smile as he looked around at the various shelves along her walls, two being over her headboard and the other two being on the wall on the opposite side of the bed, all with animal trophies on them. Turning to Slashera, he watched as she rolled over in bed, her back to him. The child curled up as she faced the opposite wall, yawning. He smiled, and leaned down and rubbed her hair, whispering in her ear, "Yes, my little one, you will sleep very well tonight, after all the good hard work you've done today . . . Sweet dreams, Little Slash. You did so well today. . . And I'm so proud of you. . ." The girl grunted a bit, and turned her head around to gaze at him with sleepy onyx eyes over her shoulder. Slowly, her mouth formed a sleepy grin, "I love you Father Slade," she whispered, yawning, "Sweet dreams. . ." He smiled and kissed her on her head as he ruffled her damp hair with his hand, and turning, walked out of the room, turning off the light in her room as he did so.

Slashera lay there for a few minutes, blinking at the wall opposite her, listening to his footsteps as the man retreated from her door, then sat up slowly in bed as she heard him close his door to get ready to go to bed. Breathing out a soft, sleepy sigh, she rolled over to face the ceiling with her back on the bed, and sat up a little, gripping her sheets and pulling them down to be around her waist. For a few minutes she just gazed across at her window, listening to her ceiling fan turning above her, then reached over to fumble with the switch to turn on her night stand's lamp. In no time its light was casting the room in a golden hue. The girl turned and stood up on the bed, balancing on the soles of her feet on the mattress. She gazed at the animals on the two shelves above her headboard for a moment before she reached out for Peter the Rabbit. Gripping him around his middle, she slowly turned and sat cross legged in the center of the bed, sighing deeply, setting him before her and beginning to stroke his back. . .

After a few minutes of just staring at him, listening to the sound of the ceiling fan blades turning up above her, she spoke, _"I've found you three new friends today, Peter . . . two raccoons named Carl and Donna and another rabbit named Lucky. His name is Lucky because I got lucky when I got him . . . you see, I tried to get another rabbit, but he got away. . ." _She frowned as she stroked his ears, remembering how displeased Slade had been then. . . _"I wonder if you wish sometimes that you had been that rabbit that got away. . . I'm sorry. . . sorry that I didn't mess up with you . . . but then again I'm not sorry. . . because I know Father Slade is proud of me because I got you. And look at all the friends I've gotten you since then . . . it hasn't been that bad, has it?" _the rabbit only stared blankly into space, its blank stare and silence seeming to accuse her, driving deep into her heart and unearthing the worry that she felt every time she completed a kill.

The child frowned harder, blinking at it, and felt tears beginning to form in her eyes as she thought of the main thing that bothered her, _"Th-that rabbit might have had babies, the same way you might have had babies. . . I'm sure that whenever he comes back from that guy Father Slade sends you all to, he'll miss his babies . . . if he had any . . . be nice to him, please. . ." _She sighed, and hung her head after a few moments of silence, closing her eyes as tears raced down, pain filling her heart. She always felt this way right after every kill, but pushed the feelings down until at night when she would talk to Peter and explain why she had to do what she did when she hunted. Because one time, Father Slade had seen her cry like this in the woods. And it'd not been a happy time . . . at all.

_Slashera released her arrow, and it went slicing through the air. And slammed into the rabbit's side. The rabbit shrieked and fell to the ground to writhe around the thing now holding it firmly at its shoulder, and Slashera walked up. The rabbit had skipped a little in the small area in the trees where she now stood over it, staring down at it, not an emotion on her face. She'd already killed two more rabbits now, Penny and Cottontail, and while with their kills she'd been sad, she still hadn't cried, and had made sure that today, she wouldn't look sad at all. She'd seen that look of disapproval in Father Slade's eye whenever she'd shown that sadness. And was determined to never receive that look again. _

_Pulling out her arrow, she slowly reset it, and aimed for the rabbit's neck. More blood flew, and the rabbit began to writhe more with more jerky movements as it died faster. She breathed hard, watching as crimson flowed onto the grass. Felt her face begin to frown. Felt her vision blur. But she sucked in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't be sad . . . she wouldn't . . . it was then that she heard it. From the woods. _

_She looked up across the opening in the woods, and stared, eyes wide, knees beginning to tremble as she looked at the other full grown rabbit there, staring at her, twitching, little baby rabbits also in the thicket, staring at her, squeaking. Her mouth fell open, and she felt her stomach lurch. It was a mommy and her babies, and Slashera just knew that she'd killed the daddy. . . she jerked her head down, staring at it, as it blinked up at her, seeming to accuse her as it gazed up at her. It was then that another shriek was heard, and she jerked her head up, staring, as the mommy fell to the ground, Slade's arrow stuck in her chest. Slashera whipped around, staring up at her Father in shock, her lips shaking, and pale as a ghost. He frowned, glancing at her as he walked around the daddy rabbit, "Go ahead, Slashera. Break his neck, while I tie her up and take care of her babies." "Wh-why did you. . ." "She might have attacked you had you gotten closer to him. Who knows what might have happened to you. Remember the disease rabbits can carry?" "B-but those babies . . . they need their mommy," Slashera mumbled, as he knelt down. _

_He frowned and reached towards the rabbits in the thicket, which hurriedly tried to move away, "They need both of their parents to live. And besides, even if they could live with their mommy, what if she attacked you? That's not right . . . this way, you don't get hurt, little one." Slashera shivered. "I thought I told you to snap his neck and tie him up," he muttered in a low voice that clearly showed he was irritated with her. _

_Slashera bit her lip and dropped to her knees, shaking all over as she reached out for the dead rabbit, trying to keep the tears in as her vision blurred. She slowly gripped her arrow and pulled it out, wincing at the squelch, and laid it aside. At that moment she heard a frightened squeak, and jerked her head up, staring as Slade took up a baby rabbit, and in one move, broke its neck. "FATHER SLADE NO!" she jerked up and rushed over, slamming into him and gripping his arm, "Don't kill them!" He turned to her, and met her with an icy glare, "Would you rather them starve out here? Freeze to death? Get sick and die slowly? Without their parents watching over them, without their mommy and daddy, these little rabbits would only die in a much more painful way." He elbowed her a little, forcing her back a little as his arm made contact with her chest. _

_She stumbled back, and touched her chest, staring, shaking all over, as he glared at her once more, before turning back to the baby rabbits, and picking one up, "Do what I told you to do." She saw the rabbit squirming, kicking, and felt tears spill down her cheeks, "NO!" she ran forward and covered its neck with her hands, staring at him with terror in her eyes, "NOT A BABY! WE DON'T KILL BABIES FATHER SLADE!" He narrowed his eye at her, "I'm the one who says who we do and don't kill, Slashera. And I know what's best for these babies. They can't take care of themselves out here. If left on their own they'd get slowly killed by the weather and forest, or eaten by another animal. Left to rot or with their bones picked clean of any meat or skin. Now, is that what you want?"_

_She stared at him, eyes wide, "Y-you could take care of them . . . like you did for me! I was little! I couldn't take care of myself! I didn't have a mommy and daddy! You took me in!" "I have no use for little rabbits. Animals like these are not good for anything but for being killed for food, Slashera. There is no reason for me to take care of them and build them up, only to shoot them down. Now, would you rather get to know them while they're alive and start to love them more than you do now, only to have to kill them later? Tell me, is that what you want? Really?" he muttered. Slashera shook, her mouth hanging open, clearly showing him that she wouldn't like that at all . . . still. . . she didn't want them to die like this. . . "Now let go of it, and let me finish this before you get bit. You have your own rabbit to tend to," he muttered, fixing her with a hard glare. _

"_I won't let go of it. I can't let you do this," she whispered. She couldn't bear the thought of her loving father abandoning and tossing away a baby like her mother had . . . She didn't want Slade to be like her mother . . . or Bruce . . . he wasn't like them! That was the point! Slade narrowed his eye at her, "This is going to happen, whether you like it or not. No matter what you do." He twisted the neck underneath Slashera's hands, and she jumped and screamed as blood flew up on her palm._

_She staggered back, staring at him with a terrified look on her face, "Y-you broke it. . . under my hands. . . y-you broke it u-under my. . . h-h-how could. . ." she began to stammer, tears rolling down her cheeks in rivers, hurt radiating from her eyes, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. "You only have yourself to blame. I told you to move your hands. You did not. It was your choice," he muttered, frowning at her. She screamed, "BUT HOW COULD YOU?! IT WAS A LITTLE BABY!" she flung her fists down at her sides, staring at him in horror, accusing him at the same time with a hint of anger in her eyes. Of repulsion. Father Slade wasn't supposed to act so coldly at all! "YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE BRUCE! YOU'RE NOT!" she shrieked, tears flooding down her cheeks, "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE KIND AND LOVING! WHAT HE WASN'T! BUT NOW, NOW YOU'RE ACTING JUST LIKE HIM! YOU'RE ACTING COLD AND HEARTLESS, FATHER SLADE! YOU'RE BEING MEAN! LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT. . . ABOUT HOW I FEEL OR ABOUT HOW THESE BABIES FEEL! THEY'RE JUST BABIES! YOU'RE. . ." _

"_ENNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Slade roared, shooting up and glaring at her with an intense rage in his eye, nostrils flaring, and anger radiating from him, his hands in fists and held at the ends of taunt arms at his sides. She fell silent, staring at him, shivering under that glare._

"_Slashera, you are aggravating me, and getting me angry. And I will NOT tolerate you yelling at me like that. Not when I have already explained to you why it had to be done. Now, unless you want to break the last two baby rabbits' necks, tie up the mother, then tie up the father like you already have to do, I suggest you say nothing more on the matter, and go back and tie up your rabbit like I told you to before. And as for me not caring about you, as for me being like Bruce, you know very well that the only way for you to get stronger is to eat the animals out here. And that's all I'm trying to get you to do. To hunt them down and kill them and eat them and get stronger. So don't you DARE tell me I don't care about you!" She sniffled, tears still running down her cheeks, gazing up at him, shivering, "I. . . I'm sorr."He snarled, not letting her finish, "And stop your crying. There's no reason to be crying. This is just something that needs to be done, and the only reason why I'm snapping and yelling at you is because you misbehaved. And you know it."_

_For a moment, there was silence in the area. He folded his arms, glaring down at her expectantly, as she continued to sob, gazing up at him, and seeking kindness in a man who currently offered none to her. She whimpered and shivered. She felt alone. Alone with a man who didn't want her. But then again, he did want her, didn't he? He cared about her . . . he'd just said so. It was she who was out of line. Not him . . . it was all her fault he was mad at her . . . she couldn't blame him. He only wanted to help her and the baby rabbits . . . and she hadn't listened to him when he'd told her why he was going to take care of them the way he had to. Father Slade did care about her. . . How could she have been so careless? She put her hands, despite the blood on them, in her hair, and shook, beginning to cry loudly, despite his command to stop crying. She'd made him mad at her! How could she have been so stupid?! Hadn't she already decided that keeping him happy was all that mattered?! _

_Slade growled as he got more and more irritated with her crying, and decided to yell at her again. "WELL?!" he snapped, and the whole forest seemed to shake around her. The baby rabbits just sat there, petrified. She stared up at him, silent with teary eyes once more, and then lowered her head, gazing at the grass, sniffling, gazing at the dead bodies of the rabbits. And rubbed her nose, forcing the tears back. She didn't want to make him any madder. Turning, she slowly edged around him, and walked over to her rabbit, her vision blurring still due to unshed tears. She jumped as she saw the bag with the tying up kit land on the grass beside her feet as he tossed it angrily at her, "Get started," he muttered. She dropped to her knees, and with trembling fingers, she tied up the daddy rabbit, hearing her Father break the remaining babies' necks behind her before working on his own rabbit. But not before he looked over his shoulder at her back and had said the one thing that caused her heart to ache: "And Slashera, I'm VERY disappointed in you." She'd choked out a sob, shut her eyes tight, and lowered her head, the phrase hitting her backside like a whip, hurting her more than a spanking ever could. And tried her hardest to work on the rabbit. _

Slashera blinked, frowning, gazing at the window across from her. _She hadn't spoken to Father Slade at all for the rest of that hunting trip, not even when she killed two more rabbits. She hadn't even bothered to name them. She hadn't met his eye. He still had radiated irritation, and she didn't want to draw it back out. Slade took the initiative not to talk to her at that time either. They'd headed back to the cabin quietly, had skinned their kills quietly. He'd only pointed at the hall when he'd given the silent command for her to take a shower, and had muttered as he walked behind her for her not to take too long and use up all of the hot water. She hadn't ever heard him mutter anything like that, and had taken the quickest shower of her life to date. Then had sat on the couch, leaning forward, staring at her clasped hands, shivering, as she heard him prepare to make dinner, slamming cabinets and doors in the kitchen. She'd jumped at every sound. When he'd finally made beef stew for dinner, he had practically slammed the bowl down at her spot on the table, and had only said one thing, "Eat and go to bed." She'd jumped, and had bowed her head, eating slowly. Obediently. He didn't even tuck her in. _

_That night, she'd cried herself to sleep. And had vowed to never question Father Slade again. She wouldn't cry at any kill, she wouldn't let him see her be sad for babies any more. She wouldn't even look sad. She hated that he wasn't proud of her, and was determined to return to his good graces. The next time they hunted, she lived up to the promise she'd made to herself, and when they'd gotten back to the cabin, Slade had rocked her on the porch, holding her firmly, smiling and murmuring that he was so proud of her as she'd clung tightly to him, stroking her black locks, as she snuggled against him as his warm arms surrounded her once more, the child desperately seeking that comfort only he could give her. She was determined to never again let it go. From that day on, she killed any animal she needed to in order to please Father Slade. Even Lucky. _

"_I know what you're thinking. It was wrong . . . killing him when he could have had babies. I know how bad that might have hurt the babies . . . but I had to. . . I have to make Father Slade happy with me. . . I know you all might not understand it all, but . . . but it's true. . . I have to make him happy with me . . . proud of me. . . I just have to . . . he's the only father I have left. . .the only one that cares for me. . . and YOU shouldn't be so mad, anyway. . . that HIS feelings matter more to me than YOURS . . . I mean, it makes sense! I've only known you guys for a little while. I've known Father Slade for at least TWO BIRTHDAYS!" _she opened her eyes, gazing at the rabbit, frowning and sniffing a little, _"I. . . I'm sorry for getting upset. . . But I just need for you to understand . . . why I do what I do. I mean, I do have a really good reason, don't I? . . .And it's not so hard on you guys . . . right?. . . you guys get good shelves to sit on. . . shelves Father Slade worked hard to make for me . . . to put YOU on. . . isn't that nice of him?. . . and the more I kill, the more friends you get that will stay here with you forever. . . I might have killed those three animals, those three animals that might have had babies, but you got some friends today, you know . . . And I made sure Father Slade is still proud of me. He is still happy with me. . ."_ she closed her eyes, murmuring the last to herself.

For a few moments she sat there in silence, eyes closed, listening to the ceiling fan turn up above. Then she opened her eyes, blinked at the rabbit that she'd placed before her on the bed, and then reached out and took him into her hands again. Then she turned and sat Peter down on her nightstand, then turned to one of the shelves on the wall beside her bed and not over the headboard. . . she reached up and slowly began to take down two new figures: Stormy and Bounce. . . she sat down with the raccoon and bunny, the raccoon standing on its hind legs on the platform and looking up at her, the bunny crouched down on its platform gazing ahead of itself, _"You see these two?" _she turned to Peter and reaching over, brought him back, _"We added these to the shelves to be friends with you again today. . . This one's name is Bounce . . . this one's name is Stormy. . . I know you probably don't like the raccoon because it's different from you, but . . . but being different means you're special, so you should be happy to have him as a new friend. . ." _

She blinked, gazing at the three figures for a while, then turned and gazed over at all of her other animals, _"I . . . know that you and your friends, Peter, will make them feel at home and feel good and be friends with them . . . just like you will with Lucky, Donna, and Carl. . . when they get here." _She turned and smiled weakly at Peter, and stroked his forehead, _"I know that you'll show them that it's not so bad, being here with me . . . right?" _

The rabbit didn't move or respond, but nonetheless, it made the girl feel better to just ask. . . She picked him up again and held him close to her chest, closing her eyes tight, breathing out calmly, her tears and inner pain gone, calm having replaced them once more, _"Thank you, Peter. . . I know you'll make them all feel at home. . . I know that you'll understand at some point why I had to kill you . . . just like you understand why I have to kill all of the others. . ." _She turned and stood, the bed moving a little with her weight shifting, and put him back. Then, kneeling down on the bed silently, she picked up the other two, one at a time, and put them up as well. For a moment, she stood there, gazing over all of the creatures on her shelves, blinking, gazing at the shadows they cast over the walls. . . she sighed, _"Well, good night you guys. . ." _she smiled, and took time to stroke each and every one of them, _"Sweet dreams. . .Sweet dreams Peter, Penny, Stripes, Cottontail, Skip, Rocky, Berry, Ears, Twitchy, Stormy, Bounce. . ."_ she whispered each one's name as she ran her hand over them. Once she was done, she smiled, taking a step back on her bed, gazing at them all, _"I'll see you all in the morning," _she murmured, before sucking in a deep breath, and sitting down, crawled to the head of her bed and pulled the sheets back again before crawling beneath them and pulling them up to her chin.

As she gazed around at her animals one more time, she let out a soft sigh, then turned and leaning over, turned off her lamp, sending the room into darkness once more. . . She always talked to Peter after every hunt. Even if he didn't talk back to her, it felt better for her to explain why she had to kill whichever animals she had hunted, and to introduce him to his new friends properly. She smiled and rolled over on her side, curling tightly in on herself, closing her onyx eyes, pulling the covers over her even more. Now that she'd done that, she knew she could sleep soundly until morning. And then, she knew she'd have tons of fun with Father Slade again! With that final thought, she grinned, snuggled even more against her pillow, the sound of the fan the only remaining sound in her room, and fell fast asleep.

Slade frowned, remembering the day when he'd yelled at Slashera in the forest about the baby rabbits as he relieved himself, cleaned up, and got ready for bed, stripping himself down until he was only in his shirt and boxers, his jeans lying crumpled on the bathroom floor. He always thought of that day right before going to bed. He had to admit, he'd lost his self-control a little that day. He had unleashed his raw anger at the child when she was so horrified. That night, when he'd laid down to sleep, he'd felt awful about it, even though he'd never admit that to anyone else. He'd rolled over to lie on his back the whole night long, staring at his ceiling until the sun rose. He had worried that that loss of control had pushed Slashera away. But another part of him was curious. It wondered that if Slashera felt so uncomfortable when she was "out of favor" with the man, perhaps she would try hard to please him in the future to regain that favor and to keep that favor. So he'd remained cold to her for the next two days, refusing to let up even a little in his irritation and silence, hoping that his idea would work. And then, on the third day, it had been a complete success. He was sure now that out of a deep seated fear of disappointing him, Slashera would in the future do just as he said without question. And although he would have rather been in control at the time when he'd gotten mad at her, he couldn't deny that that would be a vital part of her being a good assassin. And what was wrong with utilizing the situation to his advantage? She was alright now, wasn't she? Slade sighed, wiping his hands off after cleaning them with soap, and picking up his toothbrush and toothpaste, squirted the green substance onto the bristles, and looking up at himself in the mirror, began to brush his teeth, blinking. No. Nothing was wrong with utilizing that situation. Nothing at all. He was okay . . . everything was okay. It had to be. The man leaned forward, spat in the sink, and gargled with water, pushing the incident once more from his mind. Not thinking on it any further.

After brushing his teeth, Slade sat on the edge of his bed, his legs draped over the side of it while still wearing his dark black muscle shirt and blue silk boxers, leaning forward and frowning as he scrolled through various programs on the menu of his PDA until he finally got to the live feed from the satellites. He frowned, clicked "enter" with the icon highlighted, and up popped the information he sought. His eyebrows knit together in concentration for a moment before they relaxed and the man sighed, gazing sadly at the screen, running a hand through his hair as he flopped back on the bed, gazing up at his own turning ceiling fan, his PDA held loosely in a hand flopped at his side. "_Figures . . ." _the man muttered, first snow was in fact due to fall in his forest tomorrow afternoon. He pushed his head back further against the bed spread in slight aggravation, his white locks of hair rubbing against the covers, closed his eye, and sighed. He'd been able to push the thought that they'd probably have to go to the warehouse tomorrow out of his mind during dinner and readying Slashera and himself for bed, but now, he was forced to face the facts once again. _"So now we absolutely have to leave tomorrow . . . what joy fills my soul. . ." _

He let out a slight growl. Damn, he'd hoped there'd be at least one more day out here. . . still, he had known this might happen. . . the man frowned and sat back upright, back straight, frowning across at his currently closed closet. Inside of it on the floor near the back of the small storage room was a duffel bag with two scarves, coats, hats, and gloves, and beside the duffel bag were two pairs of boots that were especially made for snow hiking, one pair of boots being small and for a child, and the other being large and for him. He'd be sure to have Slashera wear her pair, along with her scarf, coat, hat, and pair of gloves, in case they didn't make it back to the warehouse before the snow began to fall. . . He frowned. He had long since been prepared to head on back. But knowing that he was prepared was a far cry from actually wanting to have to go. . .

A part of him felt like chancing Slashera getting sick out here this winter, just so that he could stay out here and not have to go back to the warehouse's world of steel walls and hallways.

After a few seconds of thinking along those lines, the man sighed, and hung his head, shaking it a little, closing his eye, _Come on Slade, you knew you had to go back sooner or later. . . even if you don't like that place as much as here. . . And besides, you definitely don't want to risk her getting sick. _He sighed at that thought and stood up. Going to his dresser, he opened one drawer and pulled out and put on lounge pants with pockets in them. Then the man put the PDA in the right pocket of those, and went through the house quietly in his socks to the kitchen. Getting out a bottle of Jack Daniels from a cabinet along with a short glass much like the one he'd used before while cooking, he went out onto his porch and sat down in a rocking chair. Leaning his head back, he let out a rattling sigh. For minutes, the man just sat there, lost in the atmosphere of the forest's night, taking in the crisp night air and sounds of the woods around him that he knew he'd miss terribly whenever he went back to the warehouse. It seemed that every time he came out here, it made it all that much harder to return back to the other building. One time, he couldn't bring himself to return for an _entire five years_. He sighed once more, "_And one time, I'll probably never return at all. But now, I have to." _

He frowned for a moment, drowning in his unsatisfied want and need to remain out in nature, where he always felt the most freedom. He remembered a time when he hadn't felt any sense of that freedom at all. He remembered a time when all he saw were steel walls and steel bars. He gritted his teeth, as the painful memories flooded back to him. Then, he hadn't been able to move a muscle without being monitored, and if he ever took a step out of line, he was punished. Just the thought of that sent tremors throughout his entire body. He had lived in a time of constant fear, of worry that he was going to do something wrong, something that the people with whips and bludgeons didn't want him to do and would greatly punish him for later. He had been afraid at times to even eat or drink anything, or to even urinate or defecate without permission, for fear that it was a test of some kind. And he had hated living in that fear. He still hated remembering that feeling. Of when he was the prey, not the predator. He remembered that time where his spirit had been beaten down until it was nothing more than a small, wispy stream of energy, about to die out completely if not rescued from that darkness.

He closed his crystal blue eye and shuddered, his breath coming out in warm puffs of air as he was lost in his memories. Some of his fellow victims had not even been able to hold onto that small wisp of their spirit. He'd seen them slowly lose their minds, their sanity, their soul, day in and day out. He remembered staring into the darkened eyes of his captors, seeing that cold satisfaction they had when another soul fell at their hands. Saw their eyes boring into his own, assuring him silently that one day he would meet the same fate as those that had just fallen, that he would be nothing but a soulless shell, one that moved at their will and no one else's, not even his own. He remembered that cruel smile stretching across their faces as he shook visibly at the look in their eyes, as they knew of the fear that was entering him and tearing at his very being, tearing at the small hope that he had that he wouldn't meet that fate. And he remembered wondering, despite how much he tried to hide it, if he would end up the same as those fellow victims, despite how desperately he clung to his sense of self, to that thing that made him who he was, that set him apart.

Those captors tried their hardest to force him to release that grip, to lose himself in their world of fear and torture. Back then, he'd even been deprived of his own _name_ by his oppressors. If he even uttered it in their presence, he was greatly beaten and had to go without food for days on end. He also had to watch which prisoners he was around if he ever dared to say his name outside of the presence of his oppressors for fear that the prisoners in hope of earning their abusers' good graces would turn him in. He remembered lying curled up on his cot at night, tears streaming down from his empty crystal blue eye, mumbling over and over again his name as if afraid that he himself would one day forget he even had one, praying to a god he was pretty sure didn't even exist that no one but his cell mate would hear, listening constantly for the guards as they made their rounds, going quiet as they approached the cell and shown a light inside, checking on the prisoners within. At those moments, he'd shut his eye tight, forced his breathing to reach normal sleeping levels, and feigned sleep until they were a safe distance away, feeling the light beam ghost over his "sleeping" form.

During that time, Slade had felt as though all control over his very life had been ripped from him by the people he'd once trusted. . . He slowly opened his single eye, and reaching up with a slightly shaking hand, removed the patch from where his other eye should be. Laying it gently down in his lap, the man reached up and ran his fingertips over the rough scars he still had over the empty, sewn up and healed over emptiness that had once been his right eye socket. Like that scar that remained, so remained a small sense of lack of control that he'd felt every day since those people had taken his freedom away from him. And every day, he tried to regain a little more of that freedom that was stolen from his soul. He knew that he'd never feel complete control or freedom again, no matter how much he desperately wanted to, but out here, at his cabin, hunting . . . he'd never felt any closer to that control and freedom than he did while out here. . .

Which meant that every time he headed back to the warehouse, he felt some of that control and freedom slipping away from him, like life giving water seeping through his fingers to fall on the ground and turn to mud. _Still, I have to go back,_ he thought with a sigh, slumping forward, refusing any tears that might want to form from his sadness in his remaining eye. _It's for the sake of my apprentice. My source of ultimate control . . . and companionship. . . I have to go back. . ._ "And what better way to say goodbye to my forest than to drink to it," he muttered, and turned to the bottle and glass he had brought, and screwed off the top from the whiskey.

The man poured some of the amber liquid into the glass and began to drink it as he rocked back and forth in the chair as he muttered to himself. "I can't let my own need for the extra freedom the forest offers me to interfere with my plans for making a perfect apprentice. Besides, the older she gets, the closer I get to being able to stay out here with her all year long. And if she gets sick now, that will inhibit her training, something I definitely don't want. I'll just have to suck it up, go to the warehouse again. . . Besides, we can come back the first chance we get in the spring, rather than wait for in the summer. I know that she won't object to that . . . yeah, we'll be back before we get to missing it for too long. . ."

He poured another drink, and tossed his head back, drinking deeply, before lowering the glass again, "And besides, I can busy myself at the warehouse in the meantime. I can go ahead and start Slashera on shot put in preparation for Bo staff throwing and maneuvering. Along with her regular exercises that she does at the warehouse. By continuing to build her strength up, she'll be even more fit for being out here by the time spring comes around. . . knowing how she progresses, she'll probably already be throwing her staff by spring." Gripping the bottle again, he poured another small amount into the cup and tossed it back, growling a little as he drank some more, the hot whiskey searing down his throat. He lowered his head, wiping the back of his mouth with one hand, frowning dead ahead, his blue eye returning to its former calm and sense of power, "And I can continue working with her on her archery and aiming at our indoor archery range there . . . Yeah . . . with all the work, which will only be doubled now that we're not having to divide our time between training and hunting and fishing, that can only make us that much closer to hunting deer next year. . . And I want to get that done _for sure _next time when we come out here . . . the sooner, the better."

He poured another gulp and then tossed it back again, before lowering the glass and his head, licking his lips, smiling in anticipation, "Then we'll move on to more advanced hunting, using guns and even, as she grows stronger, our bare hands. . . and then we can move on to much deeper lessons for her to learn . . . so really, going back to the warehouse is a good thing right now. . . even though I don't like it right now. . . no matter. My feelings don't need to inhibit my plans. Right now, I must ignore them. I must for the sake of my appren. . ." At that moment, his PDA vibrated. The man frowned, his monologue interrupted. He breathed out another cloud of warm air, before sliding out the PDA from his pocket. He tapped a few buttons before the message he'd received was on the screen. He gazed down at it, the bluish light of the screen illuminating his face in the darkness.

SW,

Heard that weather might impede upon work on the exhibit. How far have you come? Hopefully next time there won't be too much left to do that hasn't already been covered like you planned to do this time.

WW

Slade smiled and moved his finger over the keypad, typing out his reply before sending it:

WW,

Yes, less than desirable weather has turned up and things do need to be rescheduled. But don't worry. Adequate progress on the exhibit has been made, and more work can still be done in the off season.

SW

Slade only had to wait a moment before the reply to his message came into his phone, causing it to vibrate again.

SW,

Good to hear. As you know, I can't wait to see how far it's come when it is time for me to view it. We're all very excited about it over here.

WW

Slade chuckled, and poured and took another shot of the whiskey, before typing in his response and hitting send once again:

WW,

Don't worry. You'll be able to see it very soon. You won't be disappointed.

SW

Sliding the PDA back into his pocket, he poured even more whiskey into the glass and smiled weakly, toasting the forest around him as he held it up in front of him, as if thanking it for the excellent time he'd had there this fall and silently letting it know that if he had the choice, he'd stay longer. But, now after he'd spoken of the importance of returning to the warehouse, as if reminding himself about the bigger goal he was working towards, that _he _alone had set for himself, he felt a bit easier about leaving this place of freedom and returning to the warehouse. After all, there, the work he'd done at creating the building allowed him control of the very atmosphere of the place. So perhaps that control would be able to satisfy him during this winter. Smirking at the thought of such control, the man tilted the glass back again against his lips and drank deeply, the hot whiskey shooting down his throat and into his stomach. His PDA vibrated again, and the man lowered his head, reached into his pocket, and slid the device out once more, glancing at the message.

SW,

We'd expect no different.

WW

Slade smirked, and typed in his reply:

WW,

Well, I'd hate to disappoint your expectations.

SW

Hitting the send button, he poured some more whiskey. Slade rarely drank so much, but right now, as he celebrated quietly his excellent time spent out here with Little Slash, he didn't see anything wrong with drinking it all . . . so, tilting his head back, the man guzzled the liquid down yet again as his Adam's apple thumped with each gulp. He was calmly pouring a new glass, his eye half lidded now and completely calm and content, when his pants vibrated again. He rolled his eye at the interruption, slightly irritated, and tilted his head back, drinking again before lowering his newly empty glass and pulling out his PDA. Despite his slight irritation with the constant messages interrupting his "drinking time", the man wasn't going to just ignore the messages . . . he cared too much for the person sending them to him in order to do that . . . that man had been for him in a time where Slade would have never fathomed another human reaching out and supporting him and had done something for him that Slade would have never expected and could never repay the man for. A part of him didn't even think he deserved all that the man did for him or all that the man put up with to be his friend. He smiled weakly. What he knew was this: that he was lucky to have such a friend in his life. The new message read:

SW,

Watch it . . . wouldn't want that ego to get too big, now would we? You just focus on getting to work on moving that exhibit tomorrow.

WW

Slade chuckled deeply, and moved his finger over the keypad again, grinning. He knew that sending another message would only lead the other to interrupt his next drink, but he couldn't resist. . .

WW,

An ego that's too big? Is there any such thing? Haha. And I will. As soon as possible, I assure you.

SW

He hit send again. And as he poured his other drink, he got a message again. He sighed with a small lazy smile, and took a sip as he opened up his virtual mailbox yet again, glancing down at the new message.

SW,

Perhaps, but you'd never understand that kind of reasoning.

WW

Slade threw his head back, laughing a deep throated laugh, before chugging the entire glass and leaning forward as he set the glass on the porch's floor boards, a wide grin on his face. And typed in his reply.

WW,

No. Not in the past, not now, and I never will.

SW

He pressed send, and then picked up the glass again and poured himself some more whiskey. He only had one more glassful left in the bottle now . . . he tossed the drink back, drinking quickly . . . at that moment, the PDA, which was now on his thigh, balanced precariously there, vibrated again.

SW,

From you, we can expect no different. Good luck with the exhibit and goodnight, "Mr. Perfect".

WW

Slade grinned, sat the glass down once more, and turned to the PDA again and typed out his reply.

WW,

And good luck and goodnight to you, my friend.

SW

Closing his virtual mailbox for good for the night, he slid the PDA into his pocket, gripped the neck of the glass bottle even tighter, and threw his head back, drinking the rest of the whiskey straight form it's container before lowering the bottle, breathing out a deep sigh as he reached down, gripped his eye patch, and slid it into a pocket of his pants. He'd remember to put it back on later. For now, he'd just let his scars be without it and get a chance to have some fresh air hit them. Standing up, he walked over to his porch railing, and touching it, gazed out at the forest beyond, listening to the sounds of the night. He closed his eye and breathed out, the cool night air whipping at his shirt and pants . . . he felt it move his hair ever so slightly on his head, and let out a sigh, opening his eye again, not even feeling a slight buzz from all of the whiskey that he'd drunk . . . he never did when it was just that much. But then, that was the point. He didn't need to be drunk. He had too much to do. . .

He smiled weakly, turned, and was about to walk inside, when he saw the golden glow for the first time from Little Slash's room. He frowned, his curiosity perking up a little, and slowly, carefully, crept to her window, glancing in while being careful to not be seen by the child herself . . . he stared, as Slashera pet each of her animals as she no doubt told them goodnight. He smiled calmly, and chuckled a little, watching as the girl moved to lie down in bed again and turn off her light. _Just when I think she can't get any cuter or more innocent, she proves me wrong. Perhaps there's a part of her that I will never understand. A part of her that is purely innocent. A part that is untouchable and uncontrollable, no matter how much I try to tame it and bend it to my will . . . still, I can control every other part of her, that is for sure. And that innocence, whether it wants to or not, will be swept up into the rest of her that will only want to do as I say. My plan is full proof. My plan is perfect . . . and my plan will NOT FAIL. _ He turned with a small smile and walking over, picked up his glass and bottle from his rocking chair before turning and walking towards the door. Opening it slowly, he turned, and gazed out over his forest's trees once more, listening to the music of the night, before sighing, closing his eye, and walking inside. He had a lot to do, after all.

* * *

A/N: Soooo. . . I really have no note to say other than I am very curious to know what you think. So please review. I feel like I've packed so much of my own emotion and just. . . so much of Slade's and Slashera's emotions into this chapter, and even a . . . similarity . . . between the two of them, I think, that I really can't say anything more. I know I covered lightly Slade's need to stay in nature at the cabin in the previous chapter, but when I read that chapter over, while I felt it was a good chapter for itself, I felt like, I don't know, that that need needed to be delved into a little deeper before moving on. And I know it's not all clear about how he got to that situation in his life or who put him there or where even he was or how he got out, but that was also the point. It will be described in time. I read over every word that went into every part of this chapter, and tried to make sure that each sentence did what it was supposed to do. Thank you for reading it, and please, review! I hope this was a good belated Thanksgiving gift, and that I can get the next chapter up soon!


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